Where the Flame Burns Brightest
by allisonwonderland1496
Summary: A tale of love, hate, recovery, and a little bit of spunk. OC X Roy.
1. Misaki (Prologue)

The birth of Misaki starts with a child.

A child with eyes of glaciers and a smile of ice. A child with the breath of frost and a voice encased in wintriness. A child grown bitter in the merciless clutches of a lonesome storm, searching for whatever it was that made her feel so empty.

The awakening of Misaki starts with the child's death.

"Who are you?"

Such a simply complicated question to ask. A riddle difficult to solve. A mystery almost impossible to reveal. Who was I?

"I used to know," I can only say.

The girl nods, her orbs of blue digging into my dying stare. She can see herself inside. She can almost drown into my gaze. It is the closest to a mirror she has. It is the nearest to a reflection I see. I wonder if I cry, if I _could_ cry, there would be a ripple effect. A dancing tremor to disturb what I hope to be a dream or maybe just a bad memory.

I did not wish to be like this girl of white. I did not wish to be trapped in an endless winter, frozen by the hopelessness of ever finding the sun.

"I'm cold," she says shivering.

Sighing, I slide out of my pack, dropping it to the warm ground. My hands dig wearily inside the contents, riffling through the trapped heat, clutching at a soft bundle of cloth. My jacket. In a swift, smooth fashion, I wrap the clothing around her bare shoulders, zipping her up snuggly inside. She exhales weakly, rests her head upon my chest. Immediately where her forehead touches, I go hot.

Funny how the girl of white searches for something that is so close yet impossible to claim.

"Fujiin," I breathe against her hair, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I think that was my name."

"Fu…jiin," the girl echoes, going limp. "Wind…Goddess…"

She went silent and still. Motionless.

Wordlessly, I lower to the ground, flipping her to her back. For a while I allow her to stay like this, in my arms, staring up with those intensely blue eyes, so empty and deprived of life. Reflected in them is me.

_Who are you?_

I had told her Fujiin. She had gone straight for the meaning behind the name. But no one knew. No one knew my name never had a second title. My name was never intended to offer up a holy demeanor. My name was never meant to have people ponder my place in this world. I am not special. Therefore I deserve no meaning. I am simply just. I am _me_.

"I'm cold, too," I whisper to her. She makes no reply and so I gently lay her upon the earth. I tug away my precious cloak; a piece of the past. I cover her body, snapping the buttons in place behind her neck to keep it in place. Then without really thinking about it, I drift forward and plant my lips sweetly upon her cooling cheek.

The day continues. I go up to my feet and begin walking away.

I leave the jacket and cloak behind.


	2. A Worthy Opponent

I was being followed.

Rather poorly, I may add, listening to the bone rattling cracks of twigs and branches being stepped on. It was almost considerably entertaining, this intruder's lack of stealth. I had no choice but to let his or her gamely pursuit stretch on for an unusually lengthy period of time just to think of an appropriate response. Normally, I wouldn't hesitate to leave the figure panting in the dust, but the way this individual appeared so determined and relentless in keeping close and out of sight was so undeniably pitiful that I simply couldn't bring myself to leave just yet. Not to mention, this dear stalker of mine had managed to stray quite the distance away from civilization. No doubt he or she would fall victim to the maze-like structure of these woods.

I continue my calm pace, reaching behind into my bag for a sip of water. With a replenishing swig and a rewarding sprinkle upon my scorching scalp, I trail my fingers along the intricate indentions pushing along plastic bottle. Air being compressed and adjusted inside from forces acting on the outside. How fitting.

Perhaps this stranger was an actual threat feigning innocence and uselessness. The recklessness could merely be an act; a subtle distraction. A ploy to lower my guard and attack when I least expected it.

My hands grip the bottle, tightly.

Had they found me? Or maybe there was just this one? It had been a while since the last ambush. There was no telling how many had followed me. How many that were driven mad with bloodlust.

I force another swallow of water, thinking of the girl. Her cold eyes never seemed to leave me, haunting since the moment she passed away in my arms, three days ago. The date only lingered so certainly in my mind because it had been the day I lost my identity. Of course, the possibility of ever actually existing was becoming more and more of a doubt. Just how exactly could one be sure of his or her own existence? What did it mean, living? These nights I've breathed, I'd only been surviving. Was I, as a breathing survivor, alive?

Another rustle brought attention to my company's location.

It was terrifying how quickly a single girl's life was taken by the wind, passed to me as my own heavy burden to carry. Did she have loved ones waiting for her? Was she ever loved? At some points I would find myself silently questioning whether there really had been a girl or just some hallucination I constructed to tend to my growing loneliness. I'd lost count, as well as the motivation, to consider how long I've been hunting, stealing, and running… alone. That child, delusion or not, had been the first human being I had exchanged words with, few as it had been, without there being some form of hostility. First since the incident.

Leaves crunch beneath the weight of shoes. The summer breeze flows in, howling. It dives straight towards the source of noise. I stop in my tracks, digging nails into the weak plastic quivering within my clutches. The sound of a can being crushed becomes absorbed by the blazing gust, feeling blindly for my rising temper.

That tiny girl of white was dead. Such a small life, once a flame, had been extinguished.

_**Why?**_

"How long do you plan on following me?" I ask aloud to the shadows. There came no reply. A tangle of leaves hid in my restless hair, wild and energetic as the wind. With a single shake, the mess falls away, dancing across the greenery towards the flickering shade.

The question of who I had been speaking to clouds my thoughts. As easily as I could have been directing the words towards the noisy intruder, it was possible I hoped for a response from the girl who I'd never managed to escape from, despite her early departure. So it came to somewhat a surprise when the forest replied in a rough, yet charmingly adequate voice:

"Just until you dropped your act of ignorance."

Shadow morphs into man. A man of the most brilliant blue. Drenched in the noble color, clothed by the uniform and pride of Amestris. The military. A soldier from central command, judging by the closest city. His black hair tumbles messily over his eyes, yet allows me to catch his earthly stare. A seemingly rehearsed frown of serious business coats his lips. This is not the average soldier. This is someone of a higher ranking, grown hard by years of experience, and at such a young age. For a brief moment I wonder, _what have those tired eyes of yours seen?_ But then I'm quickly planning routes, processing evasive techniques, and taking notice of his gloved hands. There was something odd about the pattern decorating the top…

He reads my recognition, raising his thumb and pointer finger directly at me. In a flash, the bottle in my hand explodes, sending sparks up and down my arm. Water spills out, not before a barrier of wind comes to snatch it up in a swift and merciless scoop. In the blink of an eye, the soldier stands baffled, and soaked. Taking advantage of his hesitation, I launch two of my concealed daggers straight at his face. As expected from his skills, he dodges at the last second, leaping away back first, into nearby brush. With a casual flick from the wrist, the blades take pursuit and hit the target perfectly, ripping away cloth and ruining the printed transmutation circles.

"Damn!" the man shouts, but I am not finished. It was a risk having just the single pair. If I were him, I'd pack a spare. His pockets seem promising enough.

Reaching behind at the third and fourth weapons resting snuggly against my upper thighs, I toss them, carefully calculating the wind's strength before altering it. A ferocious gust momentarily lifts part of his uniform, allowing a painless slice into the fabric. Judging by his look of astonishment, I knew I had guessed right. The other knife strikes his attire as well, pinning it to a close by stump. He could pull it away without any trouble, but that was beside the point.

He was a sitting duck.

"What's an alchemist," I ask, narrowing my eyes suspiciously, "An alchemist from the military, I should say, doing over here, so far from his post?"

For a moment he says nothing, yanking away all the puncturing blades and observing the spare gloves with an obvious disappointment. Defeated, he shoves them back into his torn pockets, clutching my knives, the last two I'd thrown. I retain my weariness, sliding away from my bag for faster movement. The first two knives I threw were a way's off. Based on the faintest of thuds I picked up from earlier, they'd been lodged in bark a few yards away from my opponent. This would grant me plenty of time to flee. I had just the two in front of me to worry about.

"What makes you think I'm not meant to be here?" he asks with a hint of smugness. His thumb, even from here, I could see was stroking the engraved symbols of the handle on one of my blades.

Suddenly a swarm of panic came over me. Beads of sweat formed at the base of my neck. I will myself to stay composed. Do not demonstrate fear.

"Your badges," I answer cautiously, ignoring the urge to charge and steal back my equipment. Why hadn't I ditched the guy sooner? If he was here for me, a Colonel, then I really was in big trouble. An alchemist to top it all… "You _are_ a Colonel, are you not?"

The man watches me with what I presume to be interest. If he didn't realize who I was before, certainly he knew now. I had been a fool to carry around items of the palace, not to mention throwing them around so boldly at the enemy. Surely I would be taken and tortured. Kept under surveillance by lunatic scientists trying to figure out why and how I could not die. They would tear off my wings. They would record my cries for death with intrigue.

They would find out I had been the one responsible for the massacre in Aerugo.

Unless…

"That would be correct, young lady," the Colonel says, paying close attention to my stiffening stature. His eyes peaked curiously.

Unless I kill the witness. If there's a chance no one knew of my whereabouts yet, except for this man, then I could just silence him for good and continue…

Continue what? Scavenging for food and shelter? Besides, his was the sort of presence anyone would notice were he to disappear. Last thing I needed was an all-out search for the murderer.

"So," I continue, bending down to my bag, rummaging through the contents while maintaining strict eye contact. Once my palm grazed the hilt of my beloved sword, I felt slightly more relaxed. "What brings a _Colonel_ away from his paperwork?"

"Fair question," he retorts, noting the long blade I drew, bringing it up to me in a defensive stance. A mischievous smile spreads along his lips. Sweetly, he added, "And why is an Aerugo survivor roaming on Amestris territory?"

He paused, spinning my daggers between his fingers.

"With merchandise from the palace?"

Shit. Now would be a good time to-

In a blur, the Colonel's hand shoots out with a knife and I toss it aside with a blast of warm air. Immediately after, I dodge a second attack, rolling to the side. My sword remains close by my side and I prepare to slash at him, but find the area to be completely abandoned. Dammit. It was a mistake to take my eyes off for even a second.

Behind me a blade whistled in my direction. Without thinking, I flick it away, swiveling to face my attacker.

Heaps of dirt fly into my vision, driven by the force of my own winds. With a stunned yelp, I hastily rub at my eyes, burning with a horrible pain, and blindly let go of my weapon, listening intensely for an expected fourth blade. I regain just enough sight to distinguish a glinting object flying towards me. Sloppily, I pushed it away, desperately searching for the Colonel. When I finally find him, my eyes are much cleaner, and I make out his victorious smirk.

I couldn't move.

To my horror, I realize the final two blades had an almost invisible piece of string tied to their handles. Although thin, the material was hazardously sharpened to a point of triggering unbearable pain whenever I tried to move. Just taking a glance down at my body, every spot I attempted to struggle with was now glistening in tears of red. I grit my teeth, fighting every itch in my muscles to _move_-_move_-_move_. How could I have fallen for such a trick?

"So, pretty girl," the Colonel cooed, getting closer with the comfort in seeing me restrained. His eyes look over me, making mental notes. I can't help but feel nauseous. "Are you going to be a problem? Or can we have a friendly one on one discussion?"

"Tch," I mutter, averting his humorous gaze. The sensation of having multiple paper cuts eating into my flesh left me cringing. Just the idea of being caught in such a flimsy trap was irritating. Despite the horrid stings, I struggle, commanding my fingers to twitch, poke, _something_. The Colonel only watches with amusement, shaking his head pitifully. Suddenly I'm realizing the overall _irony_ of the situation. I was outsmarted by this damn fool who couldn't even manage to sneak up from behind. Unbelievable.

He stood uncomfortably close to my face, flashing a childishly giddy grin. I fight a powerful urge to risk slicing away my body into pieces, just to get one good punch at his sickeningly handsome face. "Up close, you really are an attractive one," the boy whistles, reaching out to wipe a single bang from my steaming expression. "Although you may want to rethink your manners."

"I appreciate the compliment," I say icily, baring my teeth. "But perhaps someone of your status just can't handle a rude, attractive girl like me, so you may as well let me go."

The Colonel laughs, though his eyes go hard. "And why would I release such a devilishly beautiful woman?" he asks, watching as I attempted a second fit of thrashing. "Stop that now. I'd hate to see such pretty skin being ruined."

I pause to glare at him.

"_I'm_ sorry. Would you care to take my place in the spotlight? Please," I say bitterly, ignoring the beads of blood sliding along my trembling legs. "_Do_ come and endure this. It's _quite_ comfortable. And oh so easy to have a conversation in."

In response, he laughs yet again. "Feisty girl. Got some fire in your spirit. I like it."

_Good_, I think to myself, _keep on lowering your guard. I'm not completely out of the ring yet._

"So miss," he starts, crossing his arms sternly. "Do you have any ideas as to why I'm here?"

"How the hell should I know?" I mutter impatiently. "Just couldn't stand being at the office so you came to settle your perverted needs with some girl in the forest?" I click my tongue in disgust, choking down a bitter laugh. "How… Colonel-like of you."

Unfazed, he maintained a classy smile, looking down a bit… low…

"Oy," I snap, annoyed. "My eyes. Up here."

"Yes, well," he coughed, not even bothering to show a hint of shame. "It's not like you have anything anyways."

There was absolutely no need for me to get upset. Absolutely no reason to carry on homicidal thoughts. No reason at all. Yet I failed to conceal a murderous glint in my eyes. For crying out loud. Was this guy for real?

"Your reason?" I croak weakly, thinking how lucky he was to have these restraints separating us. "For harassing me physically _and_ verbally?"

Already I could see his shoulders lowering. His facial expression appeared more lenient. Even his legs passed the impression that he could very well sit on the ground at any given moment. Concealing any scenes of a scheme, I offer my attention.

"It's been rumored that a series of murders were being randomly committed out in this area. The most recent death occurred only three days ago," he informs, passing an all too familiar message. Tensing, I recall the girl. Could he be referring to her?

"So, this gives you the right to attack the first person you encounter? Because I'm near the scene of the crime?" I fire, clearing my mind of unnecessary emotions. He couldn't be talking about her. It was perfectly obvious she had passed away due to some disease. There had been no marks on her from what I could tell.

The Colonel took on a blank expression, tapping the gloved tip of his finger against his elbow. Was the bastard going to bring up the child? And tag _me_ as the killer?

"No. It does not," he replies. He says it in such a simple, calmly matter that I cannot help but glower with rage.

"Then what makes you think-?"

"The description that seems to fit you perfectly, does however," he interrupts, narrowing his penetrating gaze. _D-Description_?

"What do you mean?" I ask, wondering just where this conversation would lead. Had someone actually been tailing me these past few days? Other than this Colonel, I hadn't picked up on _anything_. But surely there was an error. Others could look like me. "What were these _details_ you went by?"

With a deep, dramatic inhale, he answered, "A young woman with wild, shoulder-length, dark brunette hair. Bits of red and blonde that gleam golden out in the sunlight. Attractive facial features. Wears an almost royal attire; a dark blue. Appears to be lacking some sort of overcoat. Legs are covered up to the knee in laced boots, also considerably elegant. The main attire stretches down to mid-thigh. Embroidered with white patterns suggesting a higher class. From mid-upper arm to the wrist, a covering with matching designs. Seen dwelling up in the trees. Carries a bag. Has a sword with the seal of Aerugo. Beautifully hand crafted. Almost created just for the owner's hands to hold."

At this, he walks closer to where I stood, now shivering at the cool shivers running up and down my spine. Impossible. This did sound scarily similar to my appearance. And as for the so called missing overcoat… I remember the girl lying inside its fabric. My favorite, almost luxurious cloak. Made by the very fragile hands of my mother. It had matched my attire perfectly. It had been what I'd worn out in the battlefields. My lucky cloak.

Thinking about it now, why did I give it up so easily? Was that my way of trying to rid of the past?

"You-You could just be making all this up. You're practically describing just by looking at me," I stammer, determination to maintain my low profile riling me up. Enough with the stalling. Time to act.

The Colonel appears set on his claim, shaking his head. "Believe it or not, that is the exact description I came to memorize and follow."

My eyes widen. It had slipped past me where the man was walking, where he stopped. He had lowered himself to the ground, just at my feet, extending his hand towards an object.

"STOP," my voice came as a tremendous snarl. Surprised, he flinches, drawing back like a skittish animal. At my sudden outburst, I had instinctively lashed out, having the unpleasant sensation of blades sinking several centimeters into my skin. Blood drizzled at a worrisome rate, yet I stubbornly leaned as far as my bonds would allow, passing on my threatening scowl. "Do. Not. Touch. That."

The Colonel, still in a state of shock, glances over at my fallen sword, reflecting small dots of light upon the shadowy land. It takes him a moment to compose himself, but soon he rises back up to his feet, eyeing me incredulously.

Mentally, I dare him to go for it. Give me a real reason to rip his head clean off.

Instead, however, he widens the space between him and my precious gift, looking almost apologetic. With his compliancy, I graciously pull back to a more stable position. He takes a subtle check at my terrible condition.

"I didn't think you'd…struggle this much," he says quietly. What, was he actually feeling _guilty_ now? I look away, closing my eyes, summoning up the remaining bits of energy I had stirring within my aching mind, body, and soul. It would take a huge toll on my stamina, but I directed the electrical surges to my rustling feathers, itching to be let out.

"Yeah, well," I manage in a grimace, "I didn't think I'd be accused of murder either."

"So you deny it."

Pressing at my back, away from the deadly string, my wings began to pulse an odd rhythm. I knew right away what it would look like out in the open; large, grand, grey, and bright with the red glow of my own engraved transmutation circles. One for wind. The other for light.

"Yes," I retort, growing still with deep concentration. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to disagree with your given details. That person is not me. I did not commit a murder."

_Three days ago_, I secretly add. My interrogator seems unconvinced.

Wordlessly, he went off on another stroll, disappearing behind one of the trees. In no time, he reappears with a long, dazzlingly intense, blue cloak. My cloak.

"Then this _isn't_ yours?"

"Where did you get…that?" I demand, finding myself to be short of breath. It didn't matter. I needed to knock him out. _Now_.

But he had it in his hands. Which meant that he had to have moved the girl. He had to have touched her. He had to have purposely pulled her out of the very thing I had given her. The very clothing I had offered to keep her warm. Now she was somewhere out there. Cold. Freezing. Without my cloak. My damn cloak.

Bastard.

"It doesn't really matter, does it? You-"

I didn't get to hear the rest of his sentence. Didn't care to. With a furious exclamation pounding in my head, a storm of violent winds slammed directly into his stomach, shoving him head first at the decomposing bark of the tree behind him. The impact had been so frighteningly powerful, I accidently brought the entire plant down after him. With a repulsed sigh, I knew I hadn't killed him. He'd survive. Probably wouldn't wake up for a while and with a killer headache, but he'd live.

But still.

_"It doesn't really matter, does it?"_

What a terrible thing to say. Such a hideous sentence. That girl mattered. That girl mattered to _me_.

My winds came to my aid, tearing away at my bonds. Relieved of my imprisonment, I stretch out my limbs, taking a look at my bloodied uniform. What a shame.

I decide, since he really was knocked out cold, to reward myself with a more dangerous act, exposing my feathery beauties. The designs had already dulled to an almost invisible tattooed image. With a sharp flick, dead feathers molted away into the breeze, revealing more stunning, brand new feathers to compliment the slenderness of my angelic demeanor.

Gazing down, the previous gruesome wounds from the attack were already beginning to close up. They left small impressions. Scars that I would have to keep as more reminders. More indentions being formed from the outside to adjust the inside.

With a groan, I tuck back my secret, approaching the downed Colonel. Not before snatching up my cloak and buttoning it on, I squat by the man I had seconds ago wanted to bash to a bloody pulp, noting his unconscious face with a familiar pity. Perhaps I had gone a bit too crazy with the punch.

His gloves caught my attention. The circle oddly... ominous.

Reaching over to take his limp hand in mine, I push together the split cloth, recreating the symbol. Once it hits me what this man's elemental control was, I pull away as though I've touched something hot.

And hot it was. Flame alchemy. My wings shudder.

I detested flame magic.

Holding in my urges to jump and bolt away from the scene, I vaguely ponder over my history. It was rare to find someone in the field of fire alchemy. So I couldn't shake away the possibility of this man being someone… I had already met.

Boldly, I dig inside his uniform, searching for a wallet or something to shed some light on this stranger. Luckily, I come across an ID.

**_Colonel Roy Mustang_**

**_ Flame Alchemist_**

**_Amestrian State Military_**

**_1885_**

Roy Mustang? Interesting name… And he was, indeed, a flame alchemist. And he was also in the military. A Colonel… As for the date… I assume it corresponded with his birth, making him… about twenty-five. Five years older. That is, if it was still the year 1910, the year I had left Aerugo.

Thinking about it, I really did wonder how long I had been gone. Months? It felt like years, but…

Whatever. I needed to just concentrate on this Roy. The crisis he had mentioned before piqued my interest. Maybe he really thought the child had been a victim of murder. Or perhaps I had the details confused for another stranger. Granted, I was involved with quite a few murders in the area. But that was only in self-defense. The way he approached the topic, it seemed pretty serious. Was there a vicious killer on the loose in these parts?

But why should I care? Amestris was meant to be the enemy of Aerugo since the Ishval war.

I shiver, pushing away memories of that terrifying event.

I was not welcomed in the lands of Aerugo. Not anymore. So then it should be my choice whether or not Amestris was ally or enemy. Or neither.

Cautiously, I put back the identification card, looking over at the shredded, but still slightly intact, string. Some pieces were longer than others. When collected a few, performing hearty tugs, they stayed firmly together. It even drew some blood. Useful.

As I went about, pulling up the Colonel to a sitting position, finding an appropriate trunk to tie his hands back, I absurdly began to wonder what my problem was. Here I was, tying up some officer that was bound to have a search party up and running for him, having conflicting ideas, and being suckered into the chance of helping out people I used to refer to as the enemy. God. What the hell was wrong with me?

"Ritsu…" I blew out, exasperated. "I'm afraid I've finally lost my mind."

As expected. There was no reply.


	3. Two Unlikely Friends

_**1908- Ishval War**_

Why'd it have to turn out like this? What was the point of all this fighting? Who was enemy, or friend? Did it really matter anymore? It seemed as though they were all required to kill anything that spoke, anything that moved. Was this what we humans deteriorated to? Is this what we've become? Can we change our fate?

"Hurry! The enemy! They're coming!"

"Let's go! Grab all you can!"

I watched, still not able to take in the sight. Bloody men, motionless children, and sobbing mothers littered the field. Their eyes were of a brilliant red, some burning dangerously, others so terribly hollow and deprived of life. Ishvals. That's what we were here for.

There were so many, running to our vehicles, reaching for the ammunition we supplied. My men shouted orders, calling for more hands, never moving quickly enough. In the distance, I could see a storm of dust, burying the village, charging straight for us. My chest throbbed. I was beginning to feel ill…

"Fujiin!" Nathaniel called, snapping me back to reality.

"What is it?" I asked, straining for composure.

"M'Lady! The Amestris, they're reaching the halfway point."

I noted the wavering strength in his voice, nodding dismissively. "We don't have much time."

I faced the warrior villagers, passing a sympathetic look at a family huddling amongst one another, fearfully. This was utter madness. What did they hope to gain from this meaningless war? Why the hell would they even shoot a kid? The bastards…

"Fill up the empty spaces with as many women and children as we can manage," I commanded, addressing everyone within shouting distance. My second in command took action, repeating in loud shouts to the remaining soldiers who hadn't heard me.

"But… we were only ordered to transport the supplies," some recruit protested, bowing respectively.

"Rise," I commanded angrily, grabbing his collar and pulling him in closely, "_I'm_ in charge here. You listen to _me_. And I say you go and help the others load up the women and children. Understand?"

Trembling, he nodded. I shoved him off, casting a final glare before taking off to do my share of work. The sound of gunfire was approaching. We were short on time.

A child stood sobbing in the midst of frantic legs. Without hesitation, I charged towards the little girl, falling to meet her eyes, taking her hand in mine.

"Hey miss, I'm Fujiin," I said gently, mindless of the men now giving the two of us some spacing. The girl sniffed, rubbing her eye and giving my hand a fragile squeeze. In a weak, shaky voice, she asked if I was the wind goddess. With a light chuckle, I nodded. "Yes, I'm here to save you. We're going to take you to a pretty palace, would you like that?"

"Where's my momma? Will she come with us too?"

I maintained my smile, glancing at the body resting a few feet away. Her face looked strikingly similar to the girl's. Oh how I wanted to give her a proper burial. Damn these idiots. Could they not stop and think of all the funerals these kids would have to face without a body to even mourn over!?

"Your mom is already in a beautiful palace," I said sadly, reaching to wipe away an escaping tear. "Let's get you out of here, right?"

To my relief, she agreed, allowing me to reach down and lift her off her feet. Walking briskly, I showed her a few miniature displays of my winds, making them dance in her hands, earning a radiant, weak smile. Good. Even the smallest moments like this should count. Once she was packed in a quickly filling vehicle, I bid her a safe trip, patting her head. In a matter of seconds, the car revved, and they were gone in the distance.

"M'lady! Five vehicles remain!" someone reported, running to my side. I nodded appreciatively, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"They approach! They'll arrive in approximately ten minutes, judging by their speed!"

I cursed, giving my companion a reassuring squeeze. "Alright men, all of you will take up two of the cars, take your leave, you are dismissed!"

The man beside me spun towards me, eyes wide. "M'Lady? What about you?"

I smiled, dropping my grip. "I'll stay back and load up the other three," I said, giving a light push in the direction of my soldiers. "I'll be fine. Now go."

Reluctantly, he took off, giving a final glance back at me with a pained expression.

Hands clutched at my coat, tugging frantically. A young woman, delirious with panic, was shoving a baby into my hands, begging me to tend to her. Accepting her request, I cradled the crying child, bobbing her up and down. Just as I was preparing to escort the mother to the car, I heard a terrifying thud.

I hadn't even noticed the bullet hole forming on her chest, reddening to a color richer than the color leaking from her wide, wide eyes. Ambush.

"Go!" I screamed at one of the cars full of my men, waiting, waiting for me. They didn't react instantly as I sprinted towards them, top speed, shoving the child into one of their hands. With a flick of my wrist, the car was on its way, several protests screaming my name. The driver was trying to turn around, fighting against my push.

"I said GO!"

With another flick, they were soaring across the sands, disappearing out of sight in the flurries of clouds I created amongst the chaos.

Clearing my mind, I took off running, shielding and protecting as many Ishvals I could manage. Men were screaming in agony, in rage. Explosions lit the skies, blowing storms of dust into my eyes. I went from place to place, lifting crying children to their feet, tugging at the sleeves of woman yelling out the names of their husbands. I fled from the major points of battle, determined to get myself alive long enough to fill those three trucks. It wasn't too big of a goal, but it was something.

After some considerably lengthy amount of time, I had two of the trucks up and running, briefly teaching some of the women how to operate the controls. Both loads made an effort to plead for me to depart with them, thanking me for my kindness. I declined, waving them off. It pained me either way.

Once I had filled up the majority of the final vehicle, a terrible earthquake rumbled through the ground. I was in the middle of a sprint towards a flaming house, echoing the cries of a trapped family. To my horror, the floor began to split, and a mouth formed, gradually widening…

I witnessed the entire remaining truck filled with frightened innocents being devoured by the earth.

My throat tore open at the attempts of my deranged shrieks.

Then I felt a burning sensation at my back. As I spun around, a blast of flames leapt out at me, grazing my waist and ripping a serious wound along my right leg. My uniform tore open and blood blossomed, dripping gruesomely to the sandy remains of the segmented village. With a stunned cry, I cushioned the stinging spot on my waist before landing roughly on top of my scorched thigh. Where did this fire come from? This wasn't normal. It was…alive.

I gagged, struggling up to my feet. The burn was severely deep. It'd be a pain running around. I gritted my teeth, putting some distance from me and the ravenous flames at a slow limp.

Alchemy. That's what this was.

Groaning, I put weight on the closest wall, breathing heavily. I kept picturing that damn car with the kids…watching me…frightened…

"Damn it!" I yelled, slamming my fist against the wall.

This was no good. I had to push aside the emotions. I had to get out of here.

With a sob, I tore away the remaining cloth on my bloodied leg, fixing it into a temporary bandage. It would take too much of my strength to heal the entire thing. With a grunt, I placed my gloved hand upon the area, willing for the transmutation embroidered on the material to take effect. It ignited, blanketing the wound in a fiery pain, sealing it. I swallowed a wave of nausea, turning my head to focus on the monstrous flames taking out anyone in its way. If I had been there a second longer…

I finished my spell, taking a testing step for precaution. Still hurt, but endurable. I faced the direction of where the most commotion was, noting the small numbers of the enemy, but also the impressive powers of their alchemy. Most of the Ishvals were dead.

Half-heartedly, I raced off in the opposite direction.

Why? Why did we have to fight? What was there to gain when there was everything to lose?

* * *

It was eerily silent.

My back rested against a crumbled wall, my head slumped forward from the weight of shame, regret, hatred, fear, and sorrow. My bandaged leg had grown cold, numb from my constant movement. My waist ached. Sudden movements were a challenge. Every time I was forced to evade a surprise attack, I felt as though I would die simply from the pain.

The war was over.

All I wanted was to go home.

Sluggishly, I raised my hand, pulling up on what used to be a home. When I had hovered a few feet from my seat, the top of where I was anchored shifted into rubble and I collapsed back to my bum, wincing in pain from the jerkiness stressed on my leg.

Recovering from the shock, I reached up once again, succeeding to push my full weight on the wall, hugging it tightly.

It was then I saw her. Staring at me with a pointed gun, standing directly in front of an unstable building.

She was branded with the color of Amestris.

"H-Hey," I found myself warning, grimacing as I shimmied over to an easier opening. She stiffened as I moved, emitting a loud click from her readied weapon. I froze, all too familiar with how this was going to go.

"You're not one of us," she yelled, her eyes growing cold. "Why is an alchemist sided with the Isvhals?"

"Lady, you're right in front of," I tried pointing only to shudder at the impact of a bullet tearing through my shoulder. "Urg!"

The bricks above her shifted, sliding down…

"Look out!" I screamed, clutching my arm. Ignoring the misery I was putting through my body, I raced out of my broken shelter, snapping my fingers. The girl fired again, but this I easily dodged. A ferocious wall of wind swarmed beneath her, swooping under then around to shove her forward. Unfortunately, thanks to her last minute firing attempt and my evasive skills, my plan to get her out of the way of the collapsing debris had to be adjusted to getting _most_ of her out of the way.

With a yelp, she flew forward into the sand, turning just in time to see the piles of heavy weight come crashing on her. The sound of bones crunching brought tears into my eyes and I decided then to lose my lunch. When I had finished emptying myself, I limped my way over to the woman, still breathing, but unconscious.

She was one of them. One of the ones who started this whole damn thing, yet all I could feel towards her was pity.

My hand pulled away from my damaged shoulder, slick with red. With a reluctant sigh, I began to move away the toppled mass crushing her, piece by piece. Doing it by hand, my shoulder and waist were giving me a hell of a time keeping quiet. After what felt like decades, I reached the halfway point of uncovering her, witnessing her eyes flutter sleepily open.

She was surprised to see me, drawing up her gun to my head, pulling the trigger. I hardly flinched at the expected 'clink' of the emptied chamber. Her eyes widened, fearfully, and I shook the hair out of my eyes, continuing to unbury.

"What- What are you doing?" she found the strength to ask. I forced a weak chuckle, glancing to find her staring severely at the hole in my shoulder.

"Digging you out of your grave," I answered, wincing at another sharp attack crawling along my arm. The girl either had some serious pain tolerance or she just hadn't noticed the situation she found herself in.

"What do you mean? Didn't you knock me down? Why would you try helping me?"

I went for the latter explanation.

"After your little firing incident," I said, almost bitterly, eyeing my shoulder, "You failed to realize that I wasn't trying anything to antagonize you or provoke a fight."

I uncovered just enough to find a nasty looking bolt sticking straight out of her lower chest, no doubt demolishing her spine.

"What were you doing then?" she snapped viciously, unmoving. Unmoving because she _couldn't_ move. Not in the condition she was in. I frowned.

"Trying to move your stupid ass out of the way," I answered in a steady tone, glowering. "Now I'm going to ask for you to keep quiet and conserve your strength seeing as how you've completely immobilized yourself and I can't be too sure how much damage your body took from the impact."

That certainly got her attention.

She grew pale, lifting up her head, not saying anything like I asked. But clearly, she was panicking.

"Stop," I said softly, speaking to her as I did with the little child from earlier. I briefly wondered if she was alright. "You seriously need to take it easy." I eased her forehead down, gently, passing a lopsided grimace. "If I can just have you trust in me for like ten minutes, I'll have you fixed up, ok?"

I took her willingness to lie back and be motionless as her approval.

Diligently, I powered through the obstacles, occasionally pausing to ask if she felt anything, anything at all, for her to answer no, nothing. When I had almost everything out of the way, I noticed how long she had been observing me. Questions were planted all over her face. Much to be expected I supposed, having your enemy close and all.

"You seem conscious enough," I spoke, pushing myself to maintain my pace despite my trembling grips, "What's on your mind?"

She didn't answer right away, giving herself a moment to take up my offer at conversation, but she gave in to her curiosity.

"How old are you?"

I hesitated, a couple of rocks hovering in mid-air within my throbbing palms. This wasn't really a question I had expected, but I relented anyways.

"I'm just about eighteen," I replied, growing somewhat shy about my youthful appearance. People had always considered me barely an adult. It never failed to surprise anyone, learning I had the talents at such an early age to become the Prince's closest knight. Of course, that never came to prevent me from earning my respect.

The girl's reaction was the same as everyone else.

"That's…young," she whispered, her eyes flickering over to my sleeve. "It's hard to believe that you're…at such a high placement."

I laughed, wincing at the tension in my gut. "I get that a lot."

"Did you join by choice?"

A bit more personal, but what was the harm?

"Yes and no." I yanked away a larger chunk of rock, pausing to catch my breath. "I, uh-" I gasped, just realizing how surprisingly long I'd lasted being this awake. "My father was suffering with financial situations and my mother sort of…made things worse. So I went to the Prince, asking to see him." I chuckled, closing my eyes to will away specks of black and blue. "The guards wouldn't let me in, so I caused quite the scene. Especially after they carelessly pushed aside an elderly couple, politely requesting to pay the Prince a visit for family reasons, that's when I really wreaked havoc."

Goodness, the world was really spinning now.

"The good man," I smiled at the memory, "He rushed on out, demanding what was happening. When he saw me standing red faced on top of his unconscious men, he collapsed on the floor, rolling with laughter."

The woman allowed herself to smile. She was actually pretty, it suited her.

"Prince Claudio," she muttered to herself, "Never thought I'd hear a story from one of his soldiers."

I beamed, taking this as a compliment to his highness. "Ah, you're of a Fuhrer ruling, right?"

She nodded weakly, looking tired.

"Sorry, I'm making you use too much energy," I apologized, swinging over the last of the rubble. "Ok, now for the fun part."

"You're really pale," she warned, lifting a steady finger and pointing to her coat pocket, "I have some water… Please, don't push yourself. I-" she trailed off, struggling with what to say next. I shook my head stubbornly.

"Nonsense. If I were to wait any longer, your wounds would only worsen."

Couldn't argue with that, she grew grimly silent.

With a trembling crack of my knuckles, I wrapped my hands tightly around the ghastly object pinning her down. "You're about to let out a heavy mass of blood, so do not panic, do not speak, but most of all, do not _move_."

Her eyes widened, but she allowed a very reluctant nod. Concentrated, I inhaled then exhaled loudly, ensuring I would have at least enough juice to seal away the hole I was about to expose. Hopefully, I did. The worst case scenario would be I'd collapse from the ritual and fall into a heavily induced coma. God, I pray that doesn't happen.

Not believing in the whole "on three" warning, I put my entire strength, what was left of me, and gave a ferocious yank. The attempt nearly had me vomit again with dizziness. Black spots seethed into my eyes, and I desperately tucked away my fading consciousness, covering her now spewing fountain of blood, willing for my strong binds to take effect and seal the horrid opening. Her body went rigid, then a violent spasm possessed her and I knew she had recovered at least a portion of feeling. Not good. The unplanned movement created a leakage, sizzling red liquid splashing hazardously upon my face. I was performing blindly now. All I could distinguish was the muzzled sounds of her groans and the tensed muscles of her stomach. Was she… quenching her own screams? Never mind that! With a nearly emptied gasp of stamina, I demanded her life to keep blazing and drew an electric current into her nerves, rewarded with a confirming twitch. After a matter of agonizingly long seconds, she went limp, relaxing into a barely functioning state, but alive none the less. I wiped the red from my eyes.

Then I turned my head to vomit up an ocean of blood.

How I was still breathing, I hadn't the faintest clue, but I was certainly relieved.

"O-O…Kay…?" I gasped, coughing the last of my stomach into the sand. The girl had her eyes shut tightly, the fist she had shoved in her mouth falling to the floor, trembling. Damn. Fighter, this one.

"I-I think…"

Close to the point of hyperventilating, I crawled back over to check my work. Thankfully, I had done everything in one go. Her belly was exposed, flat as a pancake, deprived of any signs of impalement. I had went for realigning her spine as well, not to mention mending all the bones of her legs. Had I succeeded?

"Ca…Can you... Sit up?" I asked, pausing between each attempted speech.

She did. Slowly and with difficulty, but she was up and sitting tall. Her large eyes settled over my, no doubtingly, disgustingly drenched face.

"Is that-?" she choked, horrified.

"Let's get you up," I cut her off, standing, hardly, on two feet. The world swayed and my lids drooped. Stay awake. Stay awake enough to give her a hand.

She took it wordlessly. I could instantly tell she was fighting to get most of herself up on her own.

"Don't be shy," I said, tugging, "I promise I'm not as brittle as I appear. You're light as a feather."

And she really was. My alchemy soaked gloves ensured that much.

Frowning, her weight increased slightly, and she was leaning against me. I asked for a few more tests, asking that she rotate her ankle and perform a couple of steps with a rewarding success. Bones were healed. I was still alive. And she hadn't taken the opportunity to attack me at my useless condition. _Something_ went according to plan and I suddenly felt… better.

"Thank…you."

Surprised, I looked over at her, watching me with a genuine gratefulness. A smile came to my lips and I nodded, lowering her gently to the ground against a more stable surface. When she had settled, I collapsed to my own rear, having the extremity of what I had done hit me like a train. I was deathly tired.

The girl observed me with concern. Hard to believe she had shot me minutes ago. Hard to believe she was from Amestris. Even more difficult to believe she was supposed to be seen as a cold blooded threat. I shook my head in disbelief.

"… You really are an alchemist," she addressed almost impressively, narrowing her eyes. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I laughed, "It's just-"

I lifted my gaze to the sky, shaking my head once more.

"This whole _war_. This- I don't know," I stopped to glance at her humorously, "What are we fighting for again?"

She understood exactly what I meant. With a sad smile, she sighed. "I wondered the same thing," she whispered, palming the gun I failed to notice in her hand. "All I had were my orders. I didn't really question it at the time, but sitting here next to 'the enemy'. It's almost silly."

"Yeah."

We went quiet for moment, deep in thought. I'm almost positive we were both wondering the same thing:

What now?

"Don't you think it's funny," I found myself saying, twiddling with my gloves.

"What?"

I chuckled, leaning my head back on the wall, looking at her curious expression.

"We're solving bloodshed with… more bloodshed."

She nodded.

"And," I continued, "A majority of us don't even realize that. As simple as it may be."

Again, she nodded, exposing a small smile.

"For an almost eighteen year old, you seem to be more experienced than our own Fuhrer."

Stunned, I gawked at her incredulously, unable to decide to be flattered or furious. Had she really just considered her opponent to be at a higher rank than her own leader?

"Those wounds," she said out of the blue, pulling me away from my shock. "Are they? Burns?"

I automatically covered my legs, embarrassed for some odd reason. "Yeah," I replied, shrugging. "But it's fine."

Her eyes glinted with a knowing look, but we found ourselves pulling away from the topic. Instead, we went into full introductions as if meeting for a friendly gathering. Her name, I learned, was Riza Hawkeye. To our surprise, we lent out a series of information, uncaring of who we were speaking to. Really, we sort of dismissed our titles and origins altogether. I passed my only name, confirming it was indeed intended to represent the goddess of wind. She wondered why I had just the single identity to which I answered I had eventually separated myself from my family, tired from the problems they always seemed to burden me with. She revealed to me the death of her father, a mentor of one of the alchemists ordered to partake in the war. She mentioned having a sort of powerful knowledge, tattooed to her back. After this, however, she went stiff, clearly regretful of letting out critical info. I tried calming her, saying I had no use for flame alchemy. I hated the stuff. Flames were always a hazard for me and I'd probably end up setting myself on fire. At that, she laughed and apologized for the possibility of being somewhat responsible for the burnt marks on my body. Her talent was, remarkably, sniping. Based on the accuracy of her hits, I was amazed by her skill. She was useful whether close up or incredibly far away. I told her bits of my abilities to manipulate the weather, heal, and with the help of my carefully scarified ankles, run with incredible speed. We spoke of fond memories before today. She spoke of her hobbies and fears. I described my dreams and hatreds. She had no one in particular to go home to. The only one she notoriously described as a probable friend was the alchemist her father mentored. As for me…

"Ritsu," I said shyly, going red.

"Ah?" she teased, relishing my uncomfortableness. "Do give me details."

With a timid smile, I sub consciously decorated the ground in distracting swirls. Where to begin?

"Well," I warned, biting my lip, "Prepare to be bored out of your mind."

She laughed pleasantly. "Fire away."

I took a deep breath.

"Ritsu… Is Prince Claudio's brother."

"The Prince has a brother?" Riza asked, surprised. I nodded, reminiscing on when I had first laid eyes on him. His black, messy hair, always falling into his face. His tendency to stray into trouble and adventurous attitude. The way I immediately hated the way he stared at me in a weird fascination.

"Yes. Although, he enjoys keeping it secret. He's not that much of a royal figure."

"What do you mean by that?"

I blushed, drawing my legs to my chest.

"He, uh, was sort of drawn to me…"

Riza tried, and failed, to suppress a snicker. "Oh really? So does that mean he thought unroyal thoughts?" she joked, giggling at my brightening cheeks.

"N-No!" I exclaimed, hugging myself tighter, "I mean, he… He was always running off from the palace and acted as a regular civilian in our town. Rather horribly I must say."

He'd always be standing out of the crowd, easily amazed by the plainness of our lives. Unknowingly, he had the girls fainting for him and the men carelessly throwing out idiotic insults to his cluelessness.

"How so?" Riza asked, intrigued. I rolled my eyes.

"The boy would just take things from the market and wonder why all the marketers would start pursuing him angrily."

Riza laughed, making me join her.

"Yep. That's actually how we met in the first place, of course I didn't realize he was a prince of all things. He was standing by a stand, drawn to some sort of item and carelessly grabbed it. The one in charge of the sales was… a little unforgiving and was just getting ready to tear off his limbs when I just couldn't put up with the scene. I went up and tried haggling with the man, but he wouldn't have it. He tried to make a mark on me, which I would have easily avoided on my own, but of course the princely fellow just had to make a heroic attempt for the damsel in distress." I sighed at the memory, sarcastically emphasizing 'damsel in distress' in a distressing tone.

"He leapt in front of me, taking the blow to the nose, and I just sort of knocked out the man and made a run for it with Ritzu's nose dripping like a faucet."

Riza laughed again.

"He's… a special one," I admitted, shaking my head. "Ever since then, he had been following me around like a lost pup, pestering me with stupid questions and asking about me. It wasn't until I was found by Prince Claudio by those testy guards that I learned that Ritzu was telling the truth about being of nobility."

"You mean he tried telling you before?"

"Yes, but I mean, would you believe him, knowing him as this clueless idiot running around causing trouble?"

Riza gave an expected no gesture, causing me to giggle. "Didn't think so," I said amusingly.

"So," she addressed, leaning forward to take in my entire expression. "Are you two-?"

"Eh?" I flushed, suddenly growing frantic. "Oh no! I mean, yes? Maybe? I mean well, we didn't really make it official or anything…"

I was blabbering like a moron, burying my face in my hands. I was a knight for Pete sake. Why was I getting so… girly?

Riza grinned, waiting patiently for my freak out to subside.

"He's… told me he loves me," I murmured, tapping my fingers on my knees.

"Oh?" my companion prodded, raising her brow. "How interesting? Think you'll become his secretive princess?"

"Don-Don't be ridiculous!" I exploded. "Like that'd ever happen!"

"And why not?"

"Because he's just- How could I-? UGH. BUT HE DRIVES ME INSANE."

"I bet you drive him insane too," she sang, knocking her shoulder against mine. I winced, forgetting about the bullet wound. Riza went pale. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I forgot…"

I pushed back against her, regardless, beaming, "No, no. It's fine, really."

Relieved, she looked out past the endless, abandoned land. "Did he originally come here with you?"

"No," I replied, taking my own look out into the sandy graveyard. It was scary how quickly we had forgotten our place. "He… Didn't even know I left." With a nervous chuckle, I combed through my hair worriedly. "Oh man, he is going to be pissed."

"Maybe at first," Riza said softly, "But… from what you've told me, he'll be more relieved than angry."

I took in her words happily. "Let's hope so."

"Hawkeye! Riza! Riza! Are you there?! Riza!"

My body went on full alert, snapping up to my feet. Glancing down, I saw Riza's calm, composed stance and knew this was the man she told me about. Her father's student. The flame alchemist.

"…tch," she snorted with irritation, "such a careless man."

"Aren't they all?" I retorted, staring down at her amused face.

"Riza!"

I had to leave.

"Riza," I started, but went quiet at the sight of her understanding nod. She offered her hand and I took it appreciatively.

"Thank you. I'm sorry we couldn't have met a better way, but regardless, I'm glad to have had the pleasure."

I gave her hand a friendly squeeze, feeling a heavy tug at my heart.

"As am I. Good luck out there."

"You too."

We parted ways.


	4. Questions

For a while, I worried that perhaps the Colonel had really died.

Once I had finished tying down the man, my eyes had begun to droop and before I knew it, I'd climbed up a tree just within his sights and fell into a deep sleep. For hours. Apparently my adrenaline fueled talents had taken a large toll on my body, internally. It was almost amazing how I found myself able to stay awake that long.

Even so, the world darkened around me in no time when I first laid my back against that trunk. When I had woken up, fragmented pieces of my dreams crumbled away into unobtainable dust, smelling of something burning. With an uncaring shrug, I noticed my arm felt a bit out of place. Taking a quick gander at my surroundings, instead of being snug and safe in the arms of a tree, I had tumbled off in the midst of some nightmarish fit and landed squarely on top of my arm, bending it a way an arm should never be bent.

Currently, I am spewing several unfriendly words at the sky, snapping bones back into place.

It really could be a pain, being immortal.

With pleasant thoughts in mind and a great morning wake up call, I pull my way back up to a slumped position, jumping at the sight of a man unconscious and slightly drooling against the stump just opposite of me. For a second I'm confused, but then I remember yesterday's weirdness and I'm sighing with disappointment. So all of this nonsense had happened.

Wait. I was so positive that I'd passed out for an entire _day_. If that was the case, then…

I stumble my way over to the, yes, still breathing Colonel. Why I would be relieved this despicably, perverted _bastard_ was alive, I had no idea. The toll dealt upon myself was just as terrible as the damage I'd inflicted on him. I think.

Man, not good. With a gentle poke at his neck and a slight lolling of his head, I knew I had really caused some serious wounds. Just to verify my fears, I tug down his matted hair, peer at his scalp, and see a gruesome, swollen bump as well as a noticeable tear. Whoops.

Restored by a decent night slumber, I willingly sacrifice some of my renewed energy into his open head, and seal it. The man had better offer some kind words for this.

Speaking of when he woke up, if ever…Did I intend to be here when he did? I'd fallen so hard, literally, into the process of regeneration that I never really did think this through. If it was in fact the next day, then would this mean his recruits were going to start asking questions of his lack of presence?

I look at his knocked out face. Frown at the wet line of saliva. Gross. With a repulsive gesture, I take the corner of his uniform and wipe it roughly away.

There was no way this guy's crew would care for his disappearance. Hell, I was doing them all the favor, having him stuck in this forest.

God, I sound just as creepy as the Colonel.

Oh, I had almost forgotten about the ID. The Colonel had a name. So when he woke up, should I call him by Roy? Or perhaps Must- Mustard? What was the other…?

I reach back into his pocket, taking a second take. _Mustang_. What a weird name.

Ah! But I had yet to decide whether to leave or not! This guy, though he clearly had the wrong person, did find _me_. And he knows I'm from Aerugo. He notes me as a survivor. That didn't necessarily mean he accused me of being the culprit of the massacre. But I really did prefer no one knowing that I even existed.

Argh! I glare at him, fuming. Who knew a single person could cause so much _trouble_.

Well, I still wanted very much to learn more about these murders. Yawning, I stretch my numbing arm, thanking the skies that he hadn't been awake to witness my embarrassing plummet to the ground. Geez.

"Mmm…"

Eh? _Now_? He was waking up _now_?!

Groggily, one eye flutters open, falling immediately on my stony expression. Inside I was screaming frantically, wondering as to what in the world I could possibly say. What, greet as a lame: "So you're finally awake…" God no. Maybe a threatening: "Don't get any ideas. Your attempts will be futile." God that sounds like I'm a rapist. No! How about… Man, what was I doing? How hard had I fallen from that branch? This was like a serious hangover times twenty. So I think. I wasn't really of…drinking age. Ok, Ok. So maybe a more polite way? Like: "Sorry about the head split, Roy!" Dear god… What was I even-?

"I have to take a piss," Roy mutters, now watching me with both eyes in a state of boredom. Flushing, I try to maintain a cool, unfazed appearance. I had to show who was boss.

"Too bad," I say, crossing my arms. Yes! What a way to show this is all business! "I have some que-"

"Do you expect me to go right here? Are you cruel enough to have a Colonel downgrade himself into some poor bloke relieving of himself right _here_?" he says with an apparent tiredness. "Give me _some_ dignity here."

Reddening, I glance away. What sort of nonsense was he spewing? Dignity? He was really lecturing me on his _dignity_? And why on earth would these words be the _first_ _thing_ to pop out of his mouth when he had clearly woken up tied up and defenseless? Had I really gone _that_ hard on him?

…And what part of those questions didn't sound like I was trying to take advantage of him?

"Y-You'll just have to deal with it," I shakily reply a while later, shoving away any signs of being flustered. Roy sighs, looking pained.

"I guess there's no helping it…" he practically whispers, closing his eyes…

"Wait! Ok! Ok!" I protest, raising up a hand to plead for his behavior to stop. God. I couldn't bear the idea of interrogating a grown man sitting in his own filth. Fighting away groans of frustration, I carefully approach the Colonel, looking several years older. "Just… Just don't get any ideas…"

With a look of irritation, he nods, annoyingly adding: "No point anyways, miss 'I can do alchemy apparently without transmutation circles.'"

In a quick flick, his bounds were cut, and he eagerly rose to his feet, yawning sleepily. I couldn't help but feel a bit proud of him admitting he was no match for me at the moment. Already I ransacked through his belongings, so there was no real issue of surprise stunts. Still… best to remain on high alert with this guy.

He went a few steps away from where I stood, standing by a shaded area. Blushing, I remember just what he needed to do and turn away, closing my eyes. If he tried so much as to make a break for it, I'd know right away. Which… sadly also meant that I had superb hearing… so I could actually hear him…

I cough, cheering myself onward. It's ok. It's just a guy. Just a guy. Just some idiotic guy taking a piss in the woods…

"Done," he says tiredly, making his way back to his spot. When he notices my back still facing him, he impatiently retorts, "Coming to re-restrain me, little girl?"

I spin around, looking anywhere but at him. Trying to appear composed, I reapply the string to his wrists, amazed by his compliancy. No struggle. Just quiet and obedient.

"Hmm, this is a new experience for me. Being the one tied up," he says with a hint of…tease?

Suddenly I realize what he means, and I yank myself away, standing in front of him with clear repulsion. Roy replies with a devilish smirk.

"Of course, maybe this could still prove exciting…"

Ugh. Disgusting.

Sitting at his level, I grew cold, flaring a warning. "As I remember, yesterday you were thrown twenty feet at such a _mild_, _slow_ rate and yet you managed to bust open your head which I, as a caring individual, healed for your well-being."

I pause to tilt my head and toss a wintry smile.

"So, if I were you, I'd stop with the dirty remarks, which I'm sure is _quite_ difficult for one of such small self-control, and just try to answer some easy questions, kay?"

The look of surprise on his face was totally worth it. With a questioning grunt, his eyes flicker for a short moment. It had been so quick, I would have thought I imagined it until he suddenly put on an appraising look? Startled, I blink curiously at him, wondering if he had brain damage. Had I broken his capability to distinguish the correct reactions?

"Yesterday?" he echoes, scrunching his forehead in thought. Then to my complete surprise, he broke into a wave of laughter, occasionally stopping to cringe at the friction he cause with his restraints.

I definitely broke his brain.

"Amazing!" he eventually says, shaking his head. "It's one thing to knock me out for a couple of minutes, but a _day_?" He whistles. "And you claim you held back."

"I _did_ hold back," I hiss, wondering just what could be so damn funny about being knocked out. Roy shakes his head again.

"You're pretty powerful. I shouldn't have expected anything less out of a killer," he remarks, gazing up at me, noting the cloak I had put on. "So that really belongs to you, hmm?"

I ignore his last comment, forming a fist. This again. He still believed me to be _that_ particular killer.

"Listen," I start, sitting. This would no doubt be a long conversation. "Sorry to ruin your expectations, but I'm not your so called killer. Really."

Roy passes a look of subtle disbelief, but listens without a remark. I blew out a gust of air, unintentionally compelling a larger gust of wind to sweep back the Colonel's hair. "Sorry," I automatically say then silently curse myself for apologizing to the guy I was meant to intimidate. Guess I still had some kinks to work out with my recently acclaimed alchemy abilities.

"In fact," I continue, rotating my previously bent arm in small circles to ease the tension, "The reason I decided to stick around here was to ask you about these incidents."

Roy snorts, emitting, from me, an annoyed: "What? What's so funny about that?"

He shrugs. "Well. I mean. It's usually an expected tactic. Feigning concern for the 'crime you didn't commit'."

"And I _didn't_ commit it," I snap.

"Right, right," he says half-heartedly. "Well, being the culprit or not, I can't offer you classified info."

No surprise there. I never really expected this to be a walk in the park.

"That's…understandable," I reply.

"Well," the Colonel stretches out, planning up some scheme. I grimace, knowing for fact I wouldn't enjoy his coming offer. "We could always make an exchange."

"What kind of exchange?" I ask wearily.

"Information for information?"

I didn't really like the sound of that. My lips form a thin, hard line. Plenty of secrets I could do without sharing. Finding a killer just wasn't really worth the risk. But I play along anyways.

"Alright, so what sort of information would you be wanting from me?"

Roy appears to puzzle over this, but it's clear he's known from the start what he intended to ask. Holding my breath, I wait. Finally he says gravely, "Details of the Aerugo massacre."

There was a terrible sinking feeling in my legs despite the fact I knew I was rooted to the spot. The land gave the impression of wanting to swallow me. I gulp a wave of nausea. I should have known he would give in to his curiosity. I should have guessed right away.

"No," I whisper reflexively. "Absolutely not."

Roy shrugs, frowning lopsidedly. "Then I'll only assume you're the killer and leave you to your own knowledge of _your_ murders."

Realization hits me. I turn to gaze astonishingly at his calm, non-aggressive face.

"You believe me," I say, stunned. Roy looks neither angry nor surprised, confirming the suspicion. I lean forward, searching for something key to this man's personality. Who was he?

_"__Who are you?"_

I dismiss the memory, intrigued by Roy's changed mind. Where had he come to the conclusion I was innocent of those specific murders?

Was he ever suspicious of me?

Then why did he attack me? Why raise his hands in a gesture of attack?

"You know," he pulls me from my thoughts, looking even more exhausted, "You didn't exactly give me a chance to _motion_ for you to come speak to me."

What did he mean? I flash a look of confusion. He sighs.

"I never intended to fight you."

"Then what was with you raising your hand? Covered in a symbol of alchemy?" I demand, wondering how daft he thought I was.

"I was trying to wave you over. Old fashion, wagging the finger in my direction, sort of thing," he says with a spark of irritation. I scowl, pulling out a loose bit of string I'd pocketed from yesterday, waving it in his face. "Well you were being pretty damn hostile to me," he fumes, genuinely pissed. "Couldn't have a single word exchanged with you throwing knives at me and all."

"You asked what a survivor was doing here and then proceeded to throw my own weapon against me," I yell, amazed by this guy's determination to put his name in the clear. "What'd you expect me to do? Roll over and wait for you to calm down your tantrum just to have a word with me?"

"Tantrum?!" he barks, gritting his teeth in a peeved smile, "Oh, you thought that was me throwing a fit?"

"Well it certainly wasn't a friendly greeting!"

"Oh, ho," he growls, smile going tighter and tighter, "So perhaps I momentarily thought 'let's fight fire with fire'. But hey, you were acting pretty defensive there. So what choice did I have? Why would you want to spark a fight between us? Something to hide?"

I swallow the urge to give this guy one hell of an electric shock. Just, maybe clear up his delusional brain.

"No, just trying to protect myself, ok? You could have been one of those damn sex offenders for all I care!"

Roy laughs, flashing a murderous gleam. "Sorry your mind seems so set on the idea that everyone that follows you is after your body. Is that what you're running from, _sweetie_? Got some men that you owe rent?"

Oh. That does it. I'm going to kill this bastard. I'm going to skewer the hell out of him. He'll be crying for mercy. God damn it!

"Way to act so high and mighty with your little 'check out'!"

For a moment Roy looks confused, then recalls what I referred to with an unpleasant scowl.

"Oh my g- Hey. I was checking your attire to see how close you matched the description I was lent!"

I cackle, rubbing at my sudden headache. "Oh, yes. Mr. 'it's not like you have anything anyways'."

"Yes!" he yells, pulling forward only to flinch at his useless hands, "No other _weapons_."

"You could at least clarify it!"

"And _you_ could at least stop making such ridiculous assumptions!"

"Your stupid flirty remarks didn't help!"

"I was trying to be friendly, dammit!"

"A little _too_ friendly there, _Colonel_."

Roy and I bickered for quite a while. I didn't care to listen to what I was saying. All I knew was this moron was getting more and more on my nerves. One of the first few people I have a face to face conversation with, and I'd never been so homicidal in my life. Insult after insult was fired and man, was I _pumped_! I couldn't remember the last time I'd said so much. His ticked off expressions never ceased to force a thrill down my stomach. Words kept spilling out of my mouth, and I _loved_ how they tasted. Sharp. Feisty. Mine. I was quarreling with the Colonel… and I _liked_ it. I _loved_ this passionate rage going on. I never felt so…_alive_!

_Alive_. This was feeling alive?

I had almost forgotten.

"How'd a person like you become a Colonel anyways?!" I exclaim, holding my urge to strangle him.

Roy was clearly trying to do the same, his cheek twitching. "These things called intelligence, loyalty, and experience. I suggest you go look into all three!"

"I suggest you look in a mirror and see beyond that big head of yours! It's almost unbearably painful to look at!"

"Oh, you'd like that wouldn't you?"

"The hell does that even mean?!"

We were bickering and yelling and getting nowhere near to those questions we had for one another, yet certain other questions I've never bothered to pull out were beginning to nag at the back of my mind. Answers I never thought to be important were coming to light.

_Was I alive?_

Yes, very much so. I was practically alight.

_Would I ever find my words? Would I remember how to talk to another human? Would I even have a chance to experience a conversation?_

Yes. Yes. And a debate involved at least two voices going against one another, so also a yes.

It was… It was…

"What's _wrong_ with you? Why are you _smiling_?"

_It was wonderful._

I stop in the middle of a sentence, perplexed by his sudden change in direction. Smiling? I put a hand to my lips, blinking with surprise. Sure enough, I had a sliver of a grin appearing. In the midst of an argument. It seemed so unbelievably psychotic of me!

"I-I'm not sm-!"

"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

I leapt to my feet at the sound of a female screaming, my heart slamming at full speed in my chest. Roy had tried the same reaction, only to yelp at his forgotten binds. I look at him, unsure of what to make of what we'd both heard.

"Did you hear?"

"Yeah."

And just like that, he and I were on the same page. There was a girl dealing with a dilemma. And there was no way I'd just sit here and have another yelling match with the Colonel.

"Untie-"

"No," I say robotically, glancing at him. "You're staying here."

Then without another word, I took off, fighting against the winds desperately pushing me back.


	5. Complications

When I arrived at the girl's side, the first thing I noticed was the blood. Tons and tons of blood. Blood spilling from a deep incision in her neck. Blood painting what was once pure white on her blouse. Blood pooling from her wide, wide eyes, still blinking. Blood trailing from the shivering body to the dark interiors of the woods. I come to the realization she had been dragging herself while I searched.

"H-Hey," I try coaxing the girl. She appeared younger than me. Long, tangled blonde spread onto my thighs as I lifted her light, frail head up for easier breathing, wary of her injury. Her frightened, green orbs were darting uncertainly from side to side, delirious with panic. I don't think she even heard me.

I didn't have much time. One hand remained glued to the base of the girl's neck while the other carefully inched to her ghastly wound. The girl was gradually beginning to squirm. In the most delicate way I could muster, I tug her closer to my stomach for more control. The heat my body gives off is soothing to her, and she begins to relax more. Already my skills were going into effect, mending the cruel slit. Who could do such a thing? Was this the work of the Colonel's target?

"It's alright," I whisper, watching her slowly pass her tiny gaze upon me.

She begins to scream.

"Wah?" I choke inaudibly as the girl's hands, small as they were, wrap and constrict against my pulsing throat. Mercilessly, she squeezes. I gag, unable to pull her away without disturbing the healing process and dropping her to the ground. I couldn't stop. If I stopped now then the entire deed would revert back to the way it was originally.

The girl would re-experience her throat being torn open.

"Stah-Aurgh-"

It was just no use. Everything that made its way out weren't even considered words. Just indistinguishable, inhumane splutters.

I had two choices:

Let the girl continue her attack and finish up with her injury, possibly getting killed in the process.

Or:

Let her go. Push her away, and live another day.

"Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone," she chants hysterically, her eyes spreading a horrible terror throughout my paralyzed body. This was horrifying. This was no killer that much was clear. Her eyes were too bright. Delusional, but still rich with the purity of a kind soul. She was under some sort of spell. The way she reacted when her eyes fell on my own, I'd assume she had recognized me.

But that's impossible. This girl was definitely _not_ an Aerugo survivor. She had the aura and appearance of someone who lived in the cities for years. She was from Central City. So what was she doing _here_? And why would she be afraid of me?

I gag, feeling the world begin to sway.

"Don't kill me. Don't kill me. Don't kill me," she continues to chant, changing the lyrics. I can't do it. I have to breathe. Have to…

I move away, gasping for air. Turning around I watch with horror as the girl shakily pushes herself back up, tears flooding her lovely face. There is something sickeningly _wrong_ with how she moves. It's too jerky. There is no fluidness. It was as though she were being possessed. I couldn't move. My eyes glaze over and I just watch her throat rip open and watch her mouth screech out an ear-piercing howl of suffering. The blood was a waterfall of red. Her mouth forming a gaping abyss. Hands flew to her widening mark, and nails dig inside. Knees buckle. Screams grew more animalistic. I had to do something. I had to get up and try again. Save her. Save her! Do _something_!

"KYAAAAAAAAA! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"

Oh god, move. Move! _Move_!

Finally I did. But I was going in the wrong direction. My legs were a mind of its own and I was running as fast as they allowed. Away. Away from that deranged child. Away into the trees. I was _running_ away.

Turn back. Turn back! _Turn back!_

Why? Why was I running _away_? Why wouldn't I go back and at least _try_ saving her?

Just when I thought I'd go insane, running and running and running, I eventually drew to a stop.

I was immortal. I was _immortal_.

How could I have forgotten something so crucial? That girl couldn't have killed me. I could have stayed at her side, endure the pain as I've always done. Yet for a moment, I actually thought I was just another human. I foolishly hit the flight or fight response. And chose flight.

My feet sprint back in the direction of the girl.

_If she's dead it's your fault. It's all your fault. You coward. You left her. You abandoned her. You chose to save yourself of the pain. Your fault. Monster. Monster._

She can't be dead. She couldn't be dead. I could fix this. I could undo the mistake I made!

I was so engaged with my reassurances, I failed to notice the eerie silence. The faded screams. I held to my pleas, feeling my throat closing. Leaves spun around me, branches leapt out at my skin, scratching. Roots threaded in my path. Wildlife fled at my thunderous steps.

_Please. Please be alive. Please. Please. Please._

And here I was. Standing above her. Numbly seeing through her. Seeing past her motionless arms, drenched in red. Peering over her stiff, little, oh so terribly petite, waist, splashed in the color I so hated.

I collapse to my knees.

Her face was gazing sideways at me. Her eyes looking so terrifyingly familiar. Green shifts into blue and I'm looking at the girl in white. But this is not her. She was never her and yet…

Corpse. This was a corpse. Minutes ago she was human and alive.

Now she is a corpse.

Dead.

"N-No…" I whisper to the taunting voices in my head. Her accusing gaze is tearing into my mind, invading, rifling through my past, yanking open the files I battle every single moment in my excuse of a life trying to keep _closed_. The girl is inside my thoughts, reading everything. She's breaking my barriers. She's laughing at my dreams. Laughing at my hopes for redemption. Her fingers are digging into my most treasured memories, disturbing and awakening the most feared. "St-Stop!"

I slam my fist down upon the girl, watching with horror as flecks of blood form along my uniform. Her wound is still gushing red. So much red. It's all over my body, sinking, dissolving, becoming a part of me. More of the girl was attacking my secrets. She was getting her filthy hands all over what's mine.

I black out for…I didn't know. When my eyes open, I'm staring down at a disturbing image. A picture I never intended to create, but did so anyways. I did this. I really did…

Meat. That's all that was left of the girl. That's all I had turned her into.

Rotten.

Disgusting.

Slimy.

Meat.

My eyes water and I jolt to my feet, nearly falling back down again. Blinking rapidly, I shook my head and began to mutter just as she did. My eyes shut.

"Wake up. Wake up. It's not real. Not real. Not real."

When my eyes open, _really_ open, the girl is back. Still deceased, but not as whatever in hell I had envisioned. I was still sane. Still had my sight. I wasn't blind anymore. Truth is still with me.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!"

I snap my head to the source of sound. Another one? This one a… male?

_Oh no_.

Taking a final glance at the girl, I shook my head, gathering my composure. Then madly, I dash in the direction of the Colonel.

Why was this happening? Who had k-stabbed the girl? I couldn't bear to think 'who killed' her. That had been obvious.

If I hadn't interfered in the first place, then maybe…

No! Stop it! Thoughts like this would not get me anywhere. I had to focus. Focus on the Colonel that I had kept tied to that tree.

Oh god.

What if? What if that _was_ him? What if I had just doomed another life? These hands would have been responsible for _two_ deaths. Two unplanned, accidental deaths.

Not him, please. The girl was a stranger. I felt awful for being responsible for her worsened fate. But this man, bastard as he may be, I _knew_. For a short period, but still I _knew_ him. I had spoken to him only a few moments ago. I shared a passionate argument for Pete's sake. He came to me and we actually fought. He was an actual _challenge_. He made me remember what it was like to feel alive. Angry. Upset. All I'd ever known for the longest period of my life was regret. Guilt. Self-loathing. But that man woke me up. Sure he wasn't a close friend or a notoriously kind guy I'd consider falling for. But he was real, dammit. He proved to me that I _could_ change. I _could_ go back to being Fujiin.

He was living proof that I still had human in me.

_So don't you _dare_ take him away from me!_

In a sudden lunge, I was up in the trees. I leap from branch to branch, uncaring of how much attention I could be drawing to myself. My vision sharpens from my newly acquired determination, and I sense a presence coming nearer.

Whether it was alive was the question.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Alive, but on the verge of something foul. With a record breaking force exerted on the next landing, I flew forward, oblivious to the marks being left on my skin. I act on impulse. My lips part and I find myself scream.

"ROY!"

As the name flew into the wind and my shoes found homely territory, the impact of exhaustion hit me _hard_. I stood there, gasping, heaving, and reaching out my violently trembling hands onto bark, holding myself together. With a deep inhale, I dare a glance over at the spot I had trapped him.

Where he still remains stuck, now standing with his wrists raw, staring at me in surprise.

"What?" he asks hesitantly, confusion welling into those _living_ eyes. Those eyes full of knowledge and secrets. Alive. He was still alive. And he was looking at my deranged, relieved expression with even more cluelessness. Catching my breath, I jog over behind him and manually withdraw my dagger, cutting him free. He turns towards me, rubbing feeling into his gruesome hands and I swallow yet another heap of guilt. "What?" he says again, scrunching his face, perplexed.

"N-Nothing," I pant, stepping forward, offering my hand. "L-Let me…see…"

He tries to understand what I mean, observing my palm uncertainly. Then supposedly deciding, what's the harm, he plops one down. In a hasty action, I remove the gloves, noting his surprised but obedient stare, and fold my other unoccupied hand over to sandwich his. Raising a brow questionably, he glances at me then back at our hands, then back at me.

"Don't move," I command and pray, _pray_ he listens.

I frown, sending bits of sparks to circle his wrists, mending, forming, and stitching his cuts. Not being a nasty, fatal infliction, the task was done and over within a matter of seconds. In awe, he pulls his hand away, testing its sturdiness.

I hadn't let the mystery of the killer slip my mind. I would take pursuit after patching him up, seeing as he didn't have any real weapons.

"The other one," I demand, and he nods appreciatively, giving me his other damaged hand. As the healing process took place, he spoke.

"I know you aren't the killer," he murmurs, looking gravely serious, "I'll tell you why later. But now," he pauses to retract his other, fixed hand, "I need to go in and take a look at whoever is causing the commotion over there." His gaze fell over to the direction the screams had been.

_Later_. So he was hoping there would be a later, another opportunity, to talk to me. For reasons I couldn't really explain, I was content with the possibility.

"Can you mend my gloves?" he asks, bringing me to reality, holding a pair. I shake my head. He flashes disappointment, shoving them back into his pocket. "Alright then. If you could just wait-"

"Or you could just stay here and I'll go check it out," I interrupt, feeling a growing rage within me. This killer would be _mine_. Impersonating me, no doubt, taking away lives for some twisted reason. Hacking into what I had hoped to be locked away. Harming the girl, which I knew wasn't entirely my fault.

Roy was just about to protest when I shove a couple of my knives, handle first, into his hands. Stunned, he looks at me, asking the question of why I would give him those.

"You're useless without your gloves aren't you?" I ask, taking his flinch of annoyance as a boost to my eager state. "Stay here and wait up. This bitch is mine."

"H-Hey!"

I was already gone, the trees going past my hidden smile in blurs.

Thank you. Thank you.

Who I was thanking, no idea. But I was pretty damn grateful.

It comes to my mind, a little late, that I could have made some use of the Colonel's information. Perhaps he would have been more willing to comply with some tips, but I had no time to turn.

"SOMEONE! PLEASE! GA-GAH!"

The voice was dangerously close. I adjust my mental coordinates, turning slightly to the left, and stopping just before I pass into a very, _very_ open area. Why would this lunatic risk killing the guy in such an exposed space? In broad daylight?

Unless…

At the sight of a figure, standing eerily crooked, I swallow my cowardice and propel out into the field. The man was still breathing. His eyes were wide and startlingly blue. Seeing me, he let out a whimper.

Someone really was going around, pretending to be me. But _why_?

Then it all clicks. Just in the nick of time, I whirl and deflect a nasty looking blade, sending it off into the trees.

This insane person wanted to entice me out into a more fitting fighting field. And she had used innocents as bait.

A shadow approaches, shifting into a clearer image. Long brunette hair. Gleams in the sunlight with red and blonde highlights. A royal attire: intense blue. And missing a cloak.

I stare at myself, drawing out my blade from the strap on my back. _His_ gift feels perfectly balanced in my hands. A burst of courage fed the rising temperature in my chest. The mirror version of myself mimics my stance, drawing her own blade, copied from my own. My sword. She had made a fake. Of _my_, _our_, sword.

"Who are you?" I ask in a loud, menacing shout.

_"__Who are you?"_

The girl laughs, sounding _nothing_ like me. With a mocking curtsy, she performs a couple of twirls with her 'sword', making me stiffen with offense.

"Who am I? Yes, just who am I?"

_"__Who am I?"_

I can't afford distractions. With a mental cleaning, I push away the echoing voices and unintentionally listen to the continuing whines of the boy. The girl tilts in a curious manner, then presses her hand, 'my hand', to her mouth, emitting a giggle.

"You don't think I'm you," she sings, then drops in a mocking depression. The way she seemed so…playful and taunting was unnerving… I draw the hilt of my sword closer.

My heightened senses pick up more visitors. My eyes dart back and forth rapidly. I dare not to turn my back at the crazed, mirrored me. But it was definite. There were two others here. Out of my sight too. Outnumbered.

"Oh," mirrored me sighs, fanning herself, pouting, "You don't remember? How sad. How sad for us." she stumbles forward, skips a couple of steps, giggling at my blade extending in a warning. Thinking about it, her voice sounded somewhat familiar…

"Look at the man! Yes, that pathetic thing behind you whimpering like a pup," she says, giggling louder, darkly. "Beneath his shirt. Look!"

I don't move. My headache worsens. Behind me, the man is silent. Mirrored me cackles, motioning her hands forward.

"Oh, understandable! You don't trust me. Don't worry. Sweet Silia and handsome Haruko will help. Tear the cloth away for our dear guest!"

Cool wind nips at my shoulders from behind and I frantically spin to find the other two intruders eyeing me with petrifying glares. So close. I could see everything spinning in their gazes. So much hatred. It was throbbing in their veins. I knew those stares. The way they towered over me. How did they get here so damn fast? I didn't even _hear_ them move. It was as though they had merely vanished and reappeared at another spot.

It was a girl and boy. The boy, I assume to be Haruko, had a lanky build, but something powerful hid beneath those thin legs of his. A patch of black locks hover just above his pale, blue stare. My heart threatens to crack through rib cages. A distant roar of waves surge into my hearing. My blade feels lighter. How could it protect me from this man? He intimidates me just with his silent nature and those hazy eyes…

The girl proves equally frightening, but in the opposite sense. Leering down at me, her eyes are absolutely alight. There is a dark grudge in there. Those were the eyes of someone who fed and fed and fed those fires, keeping them blazing. Making them grow. This was pure, complete loathing. Silia did not seem sweet at all. But I catch a few details, her necklace and the way her lips are quivering, and I know she had once been that way. Something had changed her. Something had broken into her defenses and started that destruction pounding within her blood. And I'm slowly processing that it was me.

These two are Aerugo survivors.

Before I can say anything, the girl, Silia, raises her hand and strikes at my face in incredible speed. She's seemingly frail and a petite thing, but that single slap, soaked in whatever she had streaming through her heart and lungs, sent me sprawling to the side. It wasn't a matter of being painful, but _surprising_. Now even further below the two, I gawk, cradling my stinging cheek, watching her face flare the message that she was not yet content.

"Silia, Silia," that impersonator's voice scolds from behind me. "Don't you know we can't play with our friend just _yet_."

Play? In crazy talk, usually that would suggest torture. However against the idea I am, my speech refuses to cooperate and so I sit, bewildered, watching as Haruko and Silia nod simultaneously at one another and lift their hands in unison. In the same rate I found nearly impossible to track, they slash down at the now unconscious hostage, ripping away his shirt, which I began to notice was flecked in bits of red, and reveal-

_No. No. Wake up. This isn't real. Wake up_.

But it is. No matter how many times I wince, or blink, or try tearing my gaze away, it is still there. The man's eyes shoot open and he lets out a deafening wail. He does so because of the newly blossoming cuts, dripping down, draining at some of his other, raw openings. Messages scrawled all over his torso. No not messages, _names_. And it is only one, repeatedly scrapped and torn through this messenger. This messenger boy. Who was sent to deliver these words to me.

"Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze." "Kaze."

There was only one person who called me "wind". There had only been one girl who teasingly shouted "wind girl" to signal she wanted to talk. There was just the one girl who tagged along for childish pranks and telling ridiculous ghost stories under the stars at night in the marketplace.

"Remember me, now?"

My neck could barely withstand the jerky response. That voice was now painfully familiar. Recognition lit my face and the girl before me starts to smile. Her hair begins to melt away into wisps of gold, shortening to her true, preferable, boyish style. Her eyes swirl into an explosion of gray, raining down to wash away her disguise. Those winds, my stolen ability, dissipates away into her real appearance. Because I know exactly who she is, the illusion shatters. I'm staring at, not myself, but my dearest friend, Naomi.

But Naomi never had this murderous hysteria. Naomi never raised a dagger to my throat. Naomi never smiled like this.

Much like Silia, the Naomi I knew was gone.

"Nao-" I begin, silenced by the insertion of her weapon into my throat.

The stranger cackles, pulling away in an uneven yank, widening the gap and tugging me forward with the force. My mind reels and I have so much to say, but with this hole, I can't choke out a single syllable. Desperately, I lash out my sword, and hit nothing. Naomi, or whatever demon she was, had leapt away an impressive distance, holding her item dearly, transfixed by the droplets hanging at the tip.

My hand shoots straight to my throat, hoping to speed the regeneration rate, but is interrupted by two pairs of swords aiming at my back. I kick my feet forward, pushing away from the earth, and attempt squeezing between the two attackers. With my last second response, I end up saving my organs from impalement, and instead have metal eat past my cloak, threatening to suffocate with my buttoned collar, and into my shoulders.

Biting away a yelp, I quickly reach out to tug away my beloved attire, just barely managing to escape having my throat ripping another inch.

Once I land, hardly on my heels, my wound closes, working on a second layer of skin. It's tender. A single wrong poke could reopen the spot.

It's quiet again.

I risk a momentary glance at the boy and hold in the urge, almost unsuccessfully, to vomit.

His head was missing.

"I've always wanted a toy that could fix itself," Naomi giggles, stretching the corners of her mouth into a mad, delighted grin. "You always did know how to make me smile."

Could I try talking? Was I stable enough? I had to know. What happened? What happened to you, Naomi?

"Naomi," I test, feeling for my wound. Closed tight. "Naomi, what…why?"

Silia and Haruko were at her side, weapons drawn. To my surprise, Haruko's right leg was bent in an odd way. He was adding more weight to his left. Looking at my own sword, I realize there's a hint of blood. I managed to nick him.

Naomi places an arm around Silia's neck, using her for support.

"Eh. Well," she says in a humorous tone, glancing between her allies. "Haruko and Silia were wanting to pay you a visit. I, on the other hand, for a while wanted nothing to do with you. I mean, you _did_ stab me right in the chest and slaughtered my beloved parents, which by the way, wasn't really nice."

She laughs.

"But considering the wonderful friend I am and how much I just missed seeing that beautiful face of yours, I thought, ah to hell with it! And here I am! Surprise!"

There had to be more.

"Are you the killer around these parts?" I ask, hating the way my voice wavered. Naomi's grin deepens.

"Oh yes," she admits proudly, flipping her dagger in circles. "I thought I'd follow in the footsteps of my sweet, Kaze."

I flinch at the name, clenching my jaw. It didn't sound right. Like that title wasn't mine anymore. And even if it was still my name, I didn't want it to be used this way.

"_Why_?"

"Why?" Naomi mimics, letting go of Silia, who never once reacted. "You'd really like to know?"

I nod, stomach churning. She takes a step towards me, that dagger swinging like clockwork between her fingers. Blood, my blood, marking the grass.

"Well, considering how for some time I sat there, bleeding, dying, just wasting away wondering _why_? Why would she do this to me? My own _best friend_? I was a bit, pissed you could say."

She laughs again, approaching at a faster pace.

"Yes," she says, relishing in the flashback, "I wanted nothing more than to find you and do what you did to me. Then as you would lie there in your own blood, I'd find those dear to you, kill them slowly as you watched, just like when I had to see my mother and father die, and then just leave you to your misery. Fading off this planet and drowning in the pits of hell. Eternal pain and suffering as they say."

She squats right in front of me, leaning closely. Her mouth was smiling. Her eyes weren't.

"But then I thought: _what if I were in her shoes_? Perhaps I'd see the world differently. Maybe, just maybe I could understand what brought on all that death in our hometown from my friend that I had been so stupidly confident would never ever betray me."

I shiver, dreading where this was leading.

"So, I dove right into it. I became you."

The atmosphere was thick. Invisible hands were gripping my ankles, rooting them to the ground. My arms felt like jelly, utterly useless. The sword I thought was invincible now carries the impression of cardboard. Much like earlier, with the girl, I'm afraid. Naomi was a monster. Naomi was a monster because of what I'd done.

She reaches out, traces my recent scars. The marks from the Colonel's sprung trap.

"After that first death, I'll admit, I was terrified. I thought of what a horrible person I was. I asked for forgiveness. I went back to hating you," she says, playing with strands of my hair. "But then came the realization. That addicting, thrilling rush. I took away someone's life just. Like. That."

She yanks away the strands, making me cringe.

"So simple! A life! Gone! Poof! And I just loved it!"

The drying blade of her dagger presses lightly against my collarbone, tracing. I hold my breath. The more she relayed her story, the bigger her pupils seemed to get.

"Then I knew. I just knew I had to see you. I had to thank you. Thank you because I understand. I know what I've been missing. I completely understand why you would do such a thing. The adrenaline! Oh! It just makes you feel so alive!" she exclaims, pushing on the blade with her enthusiasm. I wince, horrified at this woman's cruelty. "Oh, and I of course forgive you."

I am so scared. I'm beyond being frozen with fear. I'm so close to breaking into tears. I can't… This was terrifying. So frightened.

But Ritzu knew Naomi. Ritzu would try to bring her back. I know he would.

"That's- That's never what I intended for you to think," I gasp, trying to pull away from her glinting blade. She doesn't follow. Her eyes crinkle with a hidden surprise. She's in there. Naomi, the _real_ Naomi, is in there.

"Oh?" she interjects, curious. "Do tell me what you really intended then."

"Nothing," I say, watching Silia glare at me in a skin crawling fury.

"Nothing," Naomi echoes, puzzled. I shake my head, growing bolder.

"I never wanted to do what I did," I answer, searching her focused gaze, searching for her thriving humanity. Locked away just like my memories. In order to unlock that door, I had to break open my own locks. "I didn't have a choice. I had lost my sight. I had it stolen from me. I didn't- I never- I never wanted to hurt anyone! If I could just go back, I'd-"

"YOU CAN'T. YOU CAN'T GO BACK."

My eyes widens as her face transforms into a younger girl. Years shed away and I'm looking at a furious fifteen year old Naomi. She's gasping, her knuckles red from the punch she landed at my jaw. There was no mercy. The impact released a loud crack. Haruko straightens in the background, just as stunned as I was. Silia was suddenly uncomfortably close, not as much as Naomi, but near enough for me to see the smirk forming in her storm powered eyes.

I cough, spitting up warm liquid.

Naomi takes a moment to calm down. She's gathering herself back in one piece, trying to shove it back in that door. I couldn't let this happen. Mustering my strength, I give Silia a piercing stare, startling her as a clump of dirt flew into her exposed eyes. Then just before Naomi could see what was happening, I slam my entire body directly into her, knocking her down. My sword was out and on her throat, readying to strike if necessary, which I hope wasn't. Silia, screeching with rage, began to kick at the soil, swiping at her eyes, bring Haruko to her side. This act allowed me to figure out the two were related.

When Silia recovers and Haruko is satisfied by her condition, they charge at me, then freeze at their leader's situation.

Aerugonians. We were loyal to one another. Even in these times.

Naomi groans, fighting to revert to her delusional self. It isn't until I remember her dagger that I notice a burning sensation sinking into the pits of my belly. Grimacing, I convince my mind it's only a stomachache and endure the injury.

"Look," I say, letting droplets splash on her cheeks from my numb, busted lips. "I _know_ I can't go back. You don't think I do? Did you ever come to realize how much I've hated myself these past few, god I don't even remember! I've been living these days in my own personal hell. I thought you, my closest friend, the one who always had my back, were dead. Yes, I did betray you. I hurt you, badly. Physically _and_ mentally. But that only devastated me. Do you know how many times I've tried to end my life? What happened in Aerugo was terrible. A nightmare I'd gladly wake up from at any moment."

I pause, noting a single, clear droplet.

"I wasn't in the right place of mind. There were some complications. There was-"

"You're immortal," Naomi spat, hardening.

"Y-Yes," I confirm.

Then I was swept back, and I was the one being pinned down. A thin line marked her neck, fresh. Her blade dug deeper. I gasped, immobilized. Silia was at my side immediately, and she had taken away my weapon, _my_ sword.

"You're immortal," Naomi repeats, twisting the handle lodging under my ribs. A spasm runs through me and I let out a cry. "You bitch. You horrible, horrible bitch. You did all of that for _immortality_?"

No. No, no, no. That's not it. She was making assumptions. No!

"N-No!" I sputter, folding my hands around that stone-hard grip. A mist of blood escapes with a cough. "I never even kn-"

"I'll kill you," Naomi murmurs shakily, pressing down harder. "I'll rip out the stone from your body and kill you."

She can't. She can't because there _is_ no stone.

"Listen to me!"

"No!" she screams, laughing. I was losing her. "I came here to deal with you and that's what I'm going to do! There can't be more than one Wind Goddess!"

A burst of wind crushes my esophagus, clogs my nose. I frantically reach forward and cling to her throat. I couldn't just sit here and let her do this to me. I wanted-

I wanted to get back to the Colonel.

I never wanted to hurt anyone. I despised guns. I hated war. I detested the scent of death.

But more than anything, I loathed pain.

So with a reluctant burst of momentum, the tip of my finger found the opening in the slit I left on her, and forced its way inside, clawing.

As though electrocuted, the girl shot backwards, screaming, covering her bruising throat. On cue, the two others lunge at me, snatching pieces of my waist as I pour into an evasive technique. Silia holds two swords, one which was mine. Swinging forward, she misses completely, unfit to hold a weapon created only for me. The weight throws her off, and she stumbles, leaving me the opportunity to skid by and reclaim my prize. Haruko, reading my attempt, makes his way in just as I've pointed the tip to Silia's hip, slipping his own sword into my leg, passing cleanly through. With a sharp cry, I quickly command my hand to find the handle of the dagger still resting in my stomach, pulling it out and hitting the boy with a returning blow to his already harmed leg. I make sure to keep a tight grip, tugging it out to prevent him from using it against me in the future. Weaponless, he collapses to his only functioning leg, gritting his teeth. Outraged, Silia clasps onto my shoulders, her own sword raising up and in towards my chest. With a flick of my wrist, she's blown off, colliding shoulder first into a recovering Naomi.

The two tumble into the dirt, and I take the chance to pull out the sword in my leg. Wincing, I stumble forward, reaching out a hand to catch my fall. Slowly my wounds begin to close. Quickly Naomi rises to her feet, clothing stained, cackling.

"Amazing! Amazing!" she shouts, stepping over Silia gasping for air. "Ever the performer! Incredible speed!"

She claps, then vanishes.

"But can you really keep up with me?" she whispers into my ear.

I _can't_ keep up with her. Her hand passes straight into my chest, smashing my heart. No scream pours out. I'm unable to comprehend what happened. My body goes into shock.

She pulls out her bloodied hand, shoves me to the floor, flicking away excess liquid. Then to my horror, she casually brings her slender fingers to her mouth and licks, like a goddamn cat.

I cough, gagging. Gone. Naomi is long gone.

"Salty," she says with a teasing repulsion. "You have the blood of normal, could just kick the bucket any day, human."

Groaning, I compel myself to at least sit up. The effort hurts like hell, but at least I was getting somewhere.

She watches me, tilting her head with fascination.

"I'm certain I hit your heart, Kaze."

"Stop…calling…me that," I exhale weakly. She _had_ hit my heart. And it was indescribable, the pain. But in the past I had stopped this damn thing several times and lived to tell the tale. I glance up at her blank face, then find myself forming a crooked smile.

"Kaze, I'm hurt. Isn't it supposed to be your nickname? And sweetie, have I said something funny?"

Her tone is mockingly innocent and I left out a single laugh. Bringing my palm to my motionless heart, I summon up a wave of electricity, restarting its irregular pumping.

"You…You know I've died so…so many times," I reply, crawling back up, "I'm not sure who… I am…anymore."

Naomi's grin fades, leaving a withering look. "What sort of shit are you spewing," she growls, pulling forward to grip the fabric on my attire. She shakes me angrily, spitting with her loudening voice. "You've never _died_. Because of your little massacre, you can live forever! So don't you _dare_ tell me Kaze died! Because she's standing right here!"

I blink, astonishingly, noting her changed personality. Back to the original Naomi. But the way she referred to Kaze as a different person. Was she at war with herself?

Her grip slackens. I stand, clutching at my beating heart. She looks lost. She's begun to process what she said.

"You…are Kaze," she seems to try convincing herself, burying her face in her tainted palms. Her mind is in turmoil. I don't know how much she can take. I really damaged the girl.

"Naomi," my tone comes out softly. I'm walking on eggshells now. One wrong word and she'll disappear again. "Right now, I-"

I take a deep breath.

"I'm not Fujiin."

She flinches, raising her glassy stare to settle on my grim expression.

"Back in Aerugo. On that day," I continue, trembling, "That also was not… Fujiin."

"Liar!" she yells, shaking her head vigorously. "Kaze killed Mom and Dad! Kaze hurt me! Kaze is fighting with me right now!"

"Naomi!" I exclaim furiously, "Wake up! Remember! Do you recall Kaze _ever_ being the type of person to do something so horrible as to commit a _murder_? Really remember the times before the incident!"

She sinks her nails into her hair, digging, remembering. I take a step forward, pleading for her to open her eyes.

"And as of now? I'm not fighting you," I say a bit more quietly, lifting my hands in surrender. "Look at me."

She did.

"I'm not Kaze. Not at this moment."

She whimpers. I smile sadly, willing her to stay focused.

"I'm so tired of hurting people. I'm so tired of having to face familiar faces with looks that deal as much damage to me as a dagger."

A tear slides down Naomi's face. She ignores it, her hands remaining buried in her bright, summery hair.

"But most of all, I'm tired of being so confused. I've been wondering for days whether or not I was the same person. I've dealt with nights of wondering whether everything that happened actually happened. I've asked myself over and over: am I alive? I'm just a walking corpse, Naomi. I've just been breathing. But never actually living."

I pause to extend my hand. She looks at it with a tornado of emotions. She looks so fragile, I'm afraid she will break. I want to go back. I want to go back to the way things were.

"But with your help…Maybe we can bring the old Fujiin, Kaze, back."

Haruko remains on the ground, listening. His ocean eyes don't seem so menacing. Silia sits, watching, unmoving. The trees seem to lean forward, awaiting her answer. The wind dies down to a dull push. Naomi stares at my gesture. She's contemplating. She's really considering it. Just the fact that she's trying brings hope into my eyes. I see us going back to jokes and games. I see us crying together and promising never to leave each other's sides. I see an actual future with light.

I see her reach out to take my hand.

But she keeps going.

Past my offer and to my other hand clutching the knife.

I'm so foolish to let her take it.

I'm an idiot for believing she would toss it aside.

I'm so naïve thinking this could still turn out for the better.

"I'd prefer her to remain dead."

She lifts the blade, sunlight beaming along its surface, blinding me, and I wait for the pain once again.

It comes.

The pain comes in as a gust of wind, stealing every ounce of breath I had.

Her heart stops and I know she can't restart it.


	6. Reunion

_No_.

That was all I seemed able to think. Over and over and over.

_No_.

They say it's a defense mechanism. Human response. Denial. Denying your dog had run away, denying your father left for a trip and was never coming back.

Denying your best friend took her own life with her final words being:

_I'd prefer her to remain dead._

Preferring _me_ to be dead.

Denying your existence altogether.

_No_.

It almost sounded like a symphony. The gentle pitter patter of 'no' 'no' 'no'. Such a somber rhythm that had no set tempo. It all rushed. Swirled into a storm of 'no' 'no' 'no'. It clashed it thundered it flooded down a lonely melody.

And here I was. The conductor. Waving to the left.

_No_.

Waving to the right.

_No_.

Drowning in the chorus, trying to breathe on the verses, drowning in the chorus.

_No_.

Always wondering, always pondering:

When will the concert end?

"Naomi!" someone yells. A masculine hold. Just within that name, I can hear his struggle to stay together. I can envision him trying not to be blown away. Stay grounded.

I simply stare down at her smiling face, her eyes open and looking-

_Why are you looking at me? What do you want? Say something!_

The ground moves from under me. There is nothing for me stay balanced on. Nowhere to land. Just places to fall. So many holes to plunge into.

Hands grab at my arms, yank me away from her. I willingly flow with the path being chosen for me. The back of one of them (Hakuro?) faces me. He bows down, lifts the girl (Naomi?) to his chest.

Why do his shoulders shake so much? What is that sound? Why is he (crying?) doing that?

He's (sad?). He's (mourning?).

What am I doing? Why do I feel (nothing?).

(Deny. Deny. Deny.)

Am I alive?

I watch the boy grow louder with his sobs. I glance to see a girl (Silia?) staring at me, eyes of a predator. Eyes of a ghost. She runs into the trees. Gone. Was she ever really there?

_Stay here and I'll go check it out_

Hadn't I said that to someone? Hadn't there been another?

_The Colonel_.

Oh. Yes. I had almost forgotten. He hinted speaking to me. As if there was a next time. I had to meet him. Had to hear from him why he didn't believe I was the killer.

A violent shudder ran up and down my body, doubling me over, and I vomit. When finished, I wipe the sweat from my forehead and look over at Naomi, sleeping (dead?).

_No_.

Killer. She is (was?) the killer. The Colonel would want to find (bury?) her.

I shook my head, turning away.

Where was-Where was my cloak? I remember giving it to a child. She was cold. I want it back. I'll ask her (she's dead?) for it back. Mom will (would?) be furious.

I walk back into the shade, broken.

Why was I here? What- How did I end up in a place of trees?

(So you could hide away in the branches, escape your sins?)

Was this Aerugo (Amestris?)

Ritzu is (was?) probably looking for me. Ever the sweet (Dead. Dead. Dead.) boy. And Prince Claudio is (was?) without a doubt eager to have a celebration (but he can't because I killed him?) for my return home.

The war was over and I could go back home.

_The Colonel_.

I could leave Ishval.

_The Colonel is waiting_.

With a sigh, I extend my arms out to smooth out passing brush. It was so green. Beautiful. Ritzu would (never be able to) agree. Perhaps I'll bring him here (you can't).

Where is my cloak? Mom will be furious.

(wake up)

I look up to find the spot where we had last fought. _Who_? _Who again_?

_Colonel. The Colonel_.

String is on the ground, looking sharp. I bend down, sliding it over my finger.

"Ow!"

A drop of red blooms. It's fascinating. I squeeze for more. But the cut starts to hurt less and less.

It seals up and the red stops growing.

(you killed Naomi)

Frowning, I look over to where that man from earlier was tied up. Who tied (you) him up? Who (you) let him go?

I approach the tree, looking down to find a sparkling object. It's bright. I reach down and pick it up. It is a dagger from the palace. What is it (you brought it) doing here? I need to return it right away.

(you can't)

There is something else. I pick it up. Inspect it. Put it on. White Gloves. Alchemy? Fire?

(he could be the one who burned you)

It's ripped. Useless. (because of you)

I toss them aside. Observe my surroundings. What-

What was I doing here? Where was I?

(he's not here)

Why did I come here again?

(he's not here)

I had to go home. I needed to go home. Right now.

(he's not here)

Ritzu? Where's Ritzu? Naomi wants to meet up with me in the market. Ritzu always joins. Where is he?

(he's not here!)

Wait. Where? What's going on? I don't… Ishval? Where is Ishval? That woman… Riza? Where? No I have to leave!

(he's not here!)

Dammit! What's wrong with my head? What's going on? I can't think! I can't-can't breathe! Where is Ritzu? Naomi? Mom! Mom will be furious! Have to find the cloak… the cloak!

(HE'S NOT HERE)

Papa told me to keep quiet! Don't show them the wings. It's our little secret. Gift. Papa? Where is Papa?!

(HE IS NOT HERE!)

Who?!

The ground beneath me vanishes. I fall, slumping against the tree where I had been so sure I spoke to another person. My fingers twitch and my hands scratch at the bark behind me. The headache is so painful. My thoughts are barely my own. There's two, three, hundreds of voices yelling. I can't do anything but bash my fists behind me, against plant, again and again and again.

(no, i dont want to remember)

Mom and Dad are dead. I killed them.

(no! stop!)

I can't join them. I can't join the hundreds I've murdered in Aerugo.

(stop! please!)

I killed Prince Claudio…

(go to sleep go back to sleep)

I performed human transmution…

(no no no)

I… I watched Naomi drive the dagger into her own heart.

_I'd prefer her to remain dead_

(oh god…forgive me)

I-

I-

(HE'S NOT HERE!)

"He's not here," I mutter. He had wanted to talk again hadn't he? It wasn't just my imagination?

"No, but I am."

An explosion of excruciating pain delves into my chest, pushing through, pushing through, and getting stuck. I stare up at Silia, that fire going on in her eyes, gun raised. Bullet. A bullet just hit me.

A bullet hit my _wing_.

"You just had to go on and kill the Prince. You just had to kill all those innocents," she snarls, firing two more rounds. They sink and also stop just inside the thin tissue of my wings. I howl in misery. I howl so frighteningly loud that even the girl hesitates, awe-struck by the damage she'd done. She snaps back into character, advancing on my writhing state. God…The pain…

"You had to kill my brother. My young, sweet brother who did NOTHING to deserve that fate!"

Three more rounds.

My eyes water. The noises have dulled to a sob. No tears came. I was so dehydrated…

"I don't care that you're immortal," she says, taking the dagger in my hand and driving it hard into my shoulder. I scream. "I will kill you over and over and over until there's no blood left in your disgusting body."

Why wasn't I regenerating? What was happening? I couldn't get a response from the wind. I couldn't shock her with my unrestrained hands! Nothing was working! I was useless.

A sitting duck.

"I'm…sorry," I choke, feeling faint. Silia punches me, the same spot Naomi had hit me.

"Sorry doesn't bring him back! Now the least you can do is stay awake and experience as much pain as you possibly can!"

I want to comply. Maybe after getting past all the hurt, I'll find it in my heart to forgive myself. Maybe just eternal suffering _would_ be my punishment. Dad? Was that why you did this to me?

The fire in her eyes was breaking out of its cage. Flames lick at my face, taunting, never quite touching but always there. God. Did she know flame alchemy as well? Had she found a pair of functioning gloves? Was she going to roast me to death? Or try to?

"Lieutenant! Hughes!"

"Right!"

"Yes sir!"

Colonel? And two other voices?

The flames are real. They're huge, and lashing at everything _but_ me. Flame alchemy.

Silia is clutching at her hand, cursing in pain. There is a noticeable bullet wound. When had it been fired? And how did it escape past me?

I look over at Roy, his face concentrated, his eyes dark. For a moment I see the eyes of a killer, but then he blinks and it's just black. Racing directly at me was an older looking man in glasses, his scraggly face offering a kind, homely impression. He stops in front of me, pulling out… what a _gun_? I squirm fearfully.

"Hey!" he exclaims, holding me down. "It's fine, look." He draws the object out again, and it's just a roll of bandages. "No harm. You have some nasty injuries. Temporary fix up."

Stunned, I watch him curiously, all my fear dissolving at his soothing voice. Was this the man who fired those quiet rounds? No…

"Stop it! Don't you know what she's _done_?! Shoot _her_!"

The flames extinguish and the Colonel makes his way closer to where I was having, apparently, a patch-up.

"Not good," the man, Hughes says worriedly. I wince as he moves my sleeve, exposing a hideous gash ripping from where the blade plunged to the tip of my shoulder. At some point I had moved and a tear was ripping along my skin. "A lot of blood going on here, Roy!"

Roy jogs over, kneeling down to also observe the damage. The way his eyes flicker away for a second tells me it really is serious. But I couldn't die, so why was I so terrified?

"You bitch! Let me go! Let me-"

"Sir!"

For a moment, Roy turns around, eyes the girl screaming and swiping one of my daggers at another soldier. It had been a female voice, and her back was facing me. Without a doubt, she was the one who saved me from whatever it was the girl planned. And she was waiting for a command.

I exclaim as Hughes brushes his hand along the weapon still stuck in my shoulder. Distracted, I must have missed the look or signal Roy gave the woman because in the next moment there was a sickening thud.

Silia is dead.

Silia is dead. The realization is shattering, and I can't help but fall into a panic. The woman killed her. Roy gave the permission to kill. She's dead. Silia is dead. But how else was I supposed to redeem myself? I was supposed to be victim to her words. She was going to give me pain. The chance to forgive myself.

"Hey, look at me."

How was I going to live on now? How was I ever going to find an excuse to continue existing? Why? Why'd they kill her? Why? Why? Why would they? I deserve her hatred. I deserve her rage. Those flames were supposed to break free and unleash everything I had dealt to all those civilians-

"Miss. I need you to calm down, look at me."

"S-She's…" That's all I can say, my feet screaming to move. My arms begging to pull this thing out. God the pain! The pain! How could I still be conscious? How could I still be breathing?!

"Check on the other one!"

"Yes sir!"

Other one… The other one…

_Naomi_.

"Roy, I'm losing her. I can't get her to stop moving."

Naomi is…dead? Naomi is dead. Oh I killed her. I drove her to kill others and then I killed her. She's gone. Nao is gone. My friend. My closest friend left me. She left me.

"Hughes, go and scout the perimeter, please. Check to see if there may be others."

"But-"

"Hughes, please, just do it."

Everything hurts so much. It's so hot. Why is it so hot? I need to get away… I need to… move. Yes, move. Don't stop moving. Keep running. Follow that wind…

A scream fills the air as I try to jolt upwards. Shadows thread around my waist, dragging me down. Teeth rip flesh. Who screamed? Was it- me?

"You need to stop moving. Stay still."

Truth? Was it Truth?

"No," I croak, standing. Trying to stand. Instead, falling.

Shoulder hurts… Why? Why does it hurt? Why can't I move?!

"No. Please." Don't take away my sight again, please don't take it away.

I throw out my hands, slashing, clawing. "Get away. Go away."

Snakes coil around my fingers. Squeeze. I shut my eyes, whimpering.

"HEY!"

"IT HURTS!" I howl, pushing those greedy hands away.

Get rid of the pain.

I had to get rid of the pain.

Shoulder.

My hands found the comforts of the handle, the source of my misery.

"Idiot! Don't-"

I pull it out, eyes watering. Dots of purple and blue dance in my vision. Warmth spills out of the area, slipping down along my deadening arm. Whatever I've pulled stays in my grip, heavy. I'm feeling so terribly tired.

"Shit! Hughes! Hughes, take the blade from her!"

There are footsteps and someone takes away the weight. Pressure smashes against my warm, oh so wonderfully warm, shoulder.

"Look at me," someone says. And I do.

_Fire_.

"I'm going to tell you why I believe you were innocent right now, as I said I would," the flame speaks, mesmerizing. Enticing. Captivating. I listen.

"I saw you give that cloak to the girl."

My stomach summersaults, my mind focusing entirely on that gruff, luring voice. He saw? How? This was the same man who had the entire forest disturbed by his loud footsteps. Same man,

_Mustang_?

"I didn't follow you right away. I only went there because, heck, I wanted to take a walk alone. I deserve to out of that cramped space. Paperwork is not the most exciting thing to come to _every_ _single_ _day_."

I stop moving, staring at his blazing eyes, noticing how different they are from Silia's. Tame.

"Anyway, when I was walking around I saw that girl. I noticed how pale she was and I was just going to jump in and help when, well, you beat me to it."

Similar to the effect of glass shattering, my mind wakes back up and I'm comprehending just what is happening. Glancing down where the blade should have been, the Colonel's hands are covering my grossly, overflowing flood of blood. I let out a gasp, never before suffering from such a horrible gash.

"Holy…crap," I whisper weakly. Roy hears me, extinguishing his flaming stare.

"Welcome back," he says. I grunt in response. His head turns to his company. "Mind holding his out for me?"

Briskly, Hughes nods and switches with the Colonel, patching my gaping hole with his own hands, covered in layers of bandages. Beside him on the ground, he let go of my knife.

"You'll be alright," Hughes says, trying to ease my worries. Hesitantly, I nod. Even though I knew for sure that none of this was 'alright'. All the deliria had drained from my mind, replacing it with pain. Lots of it.

"We need to seal this up," Roy says, pulling down on the ends of his white gloves.

At first, I just stare at him like he's insane. Because he is.

"You-You're kidding," I pant, looking between the two men, staring back at the hole in my shoulder that _still_ hadn't regenerated. Roy doesn't reply. Hughes gives a supportive, apologetic glance. I shake my head, uncaring that it was making things worse. "No. No…way."

The Colonel frowns, taking a knee beside Hughes. "If we are going to get you out of here and into the nearest infirmary, it's going to take at least fifteen minutes to get there, seeing as we do not have a vehicle. That doesn't include the halved rate we're probably going to travel because of how severe your wounds are. There's no choice. Unless you'd like to bleed down to empty skin, we're going to need a temporary fix."

"Leave…me," I choke.

"Did you not hear me say, 'there's no choice'?" he replies sternly.

"Roy is right. We can't just leave you here, and we can't move you like this," Hughes says worriedly, pushing further against my injury.

Not again. I did not want to re-experience having flames eat at me, _again_.

"Roy, you need to act now," Hughes points out urgently, watching as I slowly begin to relax. But it's ok. I'll be fine. I'll survive. If my alchemy would just work…

"Haven't you realized your alchemy isn't working?" Roy asks, reading my mind. I grimace, encouraging him to push on. "Did you ever think that maybe it might _not_ come back? And you won't live through this?"

"Roy, enough. Just do it."

He's right. What if I lost it? Maybe when those bullets drove into my wings, they ruined my circles. And looking down at my hands, I recall my gloves that Papa gave me being a fake. All I had were the specially drawn circles on my ankles and a fat lot of good running would do now. I'd be sucked out dry.

What if somehow, those bullets just discovered a way to kill me?

"F-Fine," I stammer, watching Roy pull out extra pairs of his gloves, offering it to me. Understanding his intent, I reluctantly open my mouth and bite into the fabric, ignoring the coming urges to gag.

With a commanding nod, Hughes leapt away and the sound of the Colonel's fingers snapping filled the air.

I'm pretty sure the whole thing was over in a matter of seconds, but those were perhaps the _longest_ seconds of my life.

Roy steps forward and pulls out the cloth responsible for keeping me from _not_ biting off my tongue. With a gag, I spit out to the side, too exhausted to budge. He feigns a look of disgust at the saliva drenched gloves.

"Well there goes Wednesday and Thursday's pair," he sighs.

Breathing heavily, I shake my head, dumbfounded by his seemingly practiced composure. The man had just _burned my skin together_. Yet he stresses over my drool. But still…

I couldn't get over the fact he came back. Maybe it really was just he told me, his mission. He probably saw one of the killers ganging up on me and really aimed to follower her.

Still…

"Whatever," he fumes, inspecting my barbecued shoulder. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You waited," I find myself saying, cringing as I try to adjust my seated position. I let out a weak, half-hearted laugh, shaking my head and beginning to droop. "You actually… waited…"

"Well," Roy points out, trying to make sense of why I wasn't lashing out at him, or at least trying to. "Technically I didn't wait at the place you told me to. I was dragged by the Lieutenant and Hughes… O-Oy, stay with me now."

"Doing ok?" that warm, fatherly voice interjects. I try lifting my gaze to see him, only to cough violently, choking on the scent of cooked flesh. Roy stands, dusting himself, dropping a hand to my level.

"I'm going to _offer you a hand_. Not attacking. You may come to the assumption that I'm going to hurt you but I'm not. Please try not to throw me into any more trees."

For a moment, I'm just too exhausted to say anything, but then I find my lingering frustration and slap away his gesture with my good arm, gritting my teeth. "I'm perfectly… capable… of getting up."

Roy snorts, shaking his head. "Yes, I'm… sure… you… are," he mocks.

"Roy," Hughes interjects. "Aren't we forgetting about someone?"

For a moment Roy draws a blank, then with a sigh he takes off in the direction of the third soldier. Hughes and I watch him run off, fading into in trees.

"I apologize for his bluntness," he says, turning to face me. Saying nothing, I shift my back along the bark, realizing how bad of an idea that was. My concealed wings emit an explosion of pain and I end up buckling back to the ground. Hughes extends his hand worriedly and I shake my head. "You shouldn't move until he gets back."

"I'm...fine," I pant, reaching to massage my shoulder. Again, the idea proves to be more harmful than helpful and I gasp, bowing forward.

"Ah, well," Hughes says after checking on my shoulder for tears, hoping to bring a lighter topic, "Now that the…icky stuff is over and dealt with, I'd like to properly introduce myself."

He stops, silently asking for my permission to continue.

"Yeah…sure," I murmur.

"Maes Hughes. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Although, I apologize for it not being quite the, well, best meeting."

I chuckle softly. "It's fine really," I say, realizing this was normally the part where I gave my own name. I really can't afford dizzying myself with the renaming process now, so I skip over it, hoping he won't mind. "Ah… so I suppose… you're one of the Colonel's… men?"

Hughes stares off into space and I'm wondering if I hadn't been loud enough. Then he begins to burst with laughter. Startled, I wait for an explanation as to what was so funny. "Sorry!" he chortles, gathering himself, "Ah, well. Yes and no. Yes I'm the boy's companion, and no, I'm sort of Colonel too. Work at Central Command, where the big guys commune."

I almost sigh in relief. Hard to imagine such a kind person working under such an egoistic man like the Colonel.

"Say," Hughes prods, sitting down as if we were at a friendly picnic. "Mind telling me how you and Roy met?"

With a questioning glance, he chuckles. "I only know the two of you talked before because he was getting frantic, going around and muttering 'where is that girl' over and over to himself. And once he found you, he seemed relieved."

I never would have expected to hear something like this. The Colonel, searching for me, being relieved at finding me? Almost as if he were actually concerned? No. That's ridiculous. The two of us hardly knew one another, and from what we _did_ know, we fought. No friendliness there, except for, I guess, when I treated his hands. But even then, I had been the one responsible for the wounds in the first place. Besides, my attacker had been a girl too. He probably meant the killer. He was relieved to find the killer.

On my own accord, I steal a glimpse of Silia's motionless body. I swallow, my throat thick with dread. Four deaths. One day.

Hughes leans into my view of the girl, grinning. "Hey. Can I just say, you are officially my hero."

"Eh?" I question, tilting my head. "How so?"

He beams, remaining in my way, intentionally hiding her body. "Didn't Roy say something about you not throwing him into trees?"

"Y-Yes?" I say uncertainly, taking a deep breath and wondering what it'd be like to sleep in a nice, comfy bed. Hughes shakes his head in amazement.

"So many people would love to have the guts to do that. You're a champion."

"I-I'm sure…" I mutter, feeling my head drop then jerk awake. The Colonel must not have too many people thrilled with him. Not to be surprising.

"Would you like to see some pictures of my Gracia?" Hughes suddenly blurts out, energetic, "Look, look! Isn't she such a beauty? Isn't she? She's just so absolutely perfect! Kyaa~~"

I nod tiredly, forcing my eyes to remain open to take in the objects being waved in my face. The squares, photographs, were of, I assume his lover. In each and every photo she is smiling. There's even a couple with Hughes posing with her. For a moment there I felt almost, envious? It was clear this man had a dear one to go home to. And based off the pictures and how radiant she appeared, shining with elatedness, she had someone to gladly wait for.

That must be nice.

"Hughes!"

I turn to find Roy panting, running up to the two of us. He has news, bad news. But one glance at me, and he tries to hide it, turning to the other Colonel and telling him off for boring me with his pictures to which Hughes furiously scoffs back that it wasn't his fault Roy was just _that_ oblivious to the wonders of love.

"Heh!" Roy barks, glimpsing my worrisome stare. "Don't get on to me about love. I've loved plenty of woman."

Hughes blew out a bitter chuckle, holding his photos close to his heart. "Yes, but your version of love involves exposure to an assortment of diseases."

I narrow my eyes at the Colonel.

"Bah!" he shouts, waving away the insult.

"And it's not true love," Hughes presses, glaring.

"Colonel…" I interrupt, trying once again to get up. Roy only pushes gently on my head, keeping me down.

"This is the first you've called me without any crude remarks," he says, refusing to move at my frail attempts to remove his hand. "It's nice. You should do it more."

"Colonel…" I say once again, irked by his complacency.

"Yes, that is indeed my rank."

"I have no… time for this," I growl, giving up on moving anywhere. "You came back for something... And I'm guessing it's not… good."

Roy says nothing, acting oblivious.

I think back to Naomi and the boy, Hakuro, alone. The boy shaking with his heavy sobs. Had something happened to Hakuro?

Without warning, I kick with a critical amount of leftover energy, which was very little, trying to bring down Mustang. Much to be expected, he hardly even flinches. Seeing as I'd been shot multiple times, stabbed, burnt, and my alchemy was _still not working_.

Seriously, what was with that?

"There's no need for you to get upset," Roy says, squatting to meet my eye level. "All you should worry about is that attitude of yours and getting it under control. Don't stress yourself."

Furious, I scrunch up as close to the tree as I can, hissing at the bursts of, seemingly never ending, pain. I hear a loud, annoyed exhale, gradually noticing the ground moving further below me. But I wasn't making any effort to stand…

Eh? _Eh_?

"H-Hey!" I find the energy to yell, pushing him back only to wonder if his chest was the one pushing _me_ away. "What the hell are you? _Stone_?"

Successfully I collapse back to the ground, crying out at the harsh impact.

"You want to _get up_ off the ground, so I _try_ to get you up off the ground, and you just _freak out_ and _push me_, making you fall back _onto the ground_. Where do you want to go, girl? Care to make up your mind?"

"Excuse me?" I snap, stumbling forward, saved by Hughes reaching out to steady me. "I don't need your… damn… help. You've done enough."

Roy grumbles, listening to my chaotic breathing. "Forget how to breathe?"

"Asshole," I mutter.

"Indecisive inhaler," he retorts.

I remember past my irritation, Haruko.

"The boy," I say, putting our matters aside. "He's…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word anymore. The Colonel pauses, waits a while to think of any other ways to avoid the answer. He passes a single nod.

Nauseatingly dizzy. I can't say I didn't expect it, considering how Naomi acted and all. Still didn't feel too great on my part.

"Don't worry about it," Hughes says, "It wasn't your fault."

Inside I'm thinking: _but it was_.

I hear approaching footsteps. But I just can't get it past myself, the events of today… Everything linking to none other but me.

"Sir? I've taken care of the bodies as you've asked."

I cradle my head, seeing black spots. The female's voice was back. She seemed to be quite the follower for the Colonel. How could she do it? How could she dispose corpses so…quickly?

I shiver, then, much to my shock and horror, vomit.

Hughes was up and rubbing my back, unsure of what else there really was to do. Roy sort of stayed out entirely, to my relief. As for the third figure…

"Please, try not to push yourself," her soothing voice says, striking a memory. "I've got some water…"

_Try not to push yourself… I have some water…_

Those same words. Those exact same words, ring such a vague bell. They pull out memories of sand. Morphs the wound on my shoulder into the after math of a bullet going through. I hear chiming laugher.

_Solving bloodshed with more bloodshed._

My eyes widen.

"Colonel?" I ask without lifting my head.

"Hmm?" he grunts.

"What is your Lieutenant's name? Her full name?"

I don't want to look up yet. Can't bear to deal with the disappointment if it's not her. But I know it is.

Can't deal with the hatred I'd feel for the Colonel for burning my thigh and waist and killing so many innocents. Even though I know he did.

"Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye," Riza answers instead, then I feel fingers fall under my chin, and she's lifting my head up.

No one says anything.

She blinks and my jaw drops open.

The two men don't know what to make of our meeting. Roy looks genuinely confused. Hughes pulls into the shadows, offering more privacy.

Finally: "You're… alive?"

I nod at her question, disbelieving. "I think so."

Roy clears his throat. "It's wonderful that you two of you seem to… already met, but we really must leave."

My mouth twitches. Riza notes the dangerous flash in my eyes, turns to look at the Colonel. Turns back to look at me.

In that moment everything hits me. Everything from the war. Emotions I've collected and shoved deep, deep, deep down come erupting out. Venom coats my tongue and all the appreciation, fascination, and everything considerably positive towards the Colonel becomes replaced with red, red, _red_. I envision the Ishval families. The girl. The house. The ground. The vehicles. My men. Riza. Flame alchemy. Pain. Uselessness. But most of all, those goddamn flames.

"You bastard!" I scream, pushing away all my self-concerns, drowning that voice inside telling me to stop, ignoring my body's pleas to just let it rest. "So _you're_ the one responsible for that fire? _You're_ the one responsible for those deaths?" He barely reacts which pisses me off even more. "Thanks to you, I've got this hideous gash on my leg. A reminder I never intended to have! I have to go around with that damn mark, reminding me of all those people I couldn't save because your damn fire made me useless! _Useless_!"

"Fujiin…"

I face Riza's friendly, worrisome eyes. The same eyes Naomi used to give. A part of me holds back, but I can't help my outburst.

"That is _not_ my name."

She flinches, watching my hands shaking uncontrollably, digging into themselves, then grabs my wrists, slowly opening them. At first I resist, casting a foul look, wondering why she would dare touch me. But eventually I draw back enough sense to know she isn't to blame for any of this. Drained, I notice just how hard I'm breathing, and bite away a yelp. Pain. There's so much pain.

"Calm down," she says softly, forcing me to make eye contact. She pauses, taking a moment to order her thoughts. "I'm sorry. I must have remembered incorrectly. What did you say your name was?"

I eye her, dumbfounded.

She _knew_. She _knew_ I had told her Fujiin then. Yet she was willing to…let me choose a different title?

I glare back over at the Colonel, that expression remaining unaffected. Did he even remember? Did he even _care_?

My head falls forward. Hair curtains my face.

There was so much I wanted to say, none of it notoriously nice. But meanwhile, Riza was giving me the perfect opportunity to start over. And if I was going to leave _that_ part of me behind, I couldn't be like this. Fujiin is gone. Fujiin is dead.

_I'd prefer her to remain dead_

Naomi's final words… Perhaps they didn't have to be in vain.

Mustering all my will power, I manage a side glance at the Colonel.

Of course, I had to deal with the storm of emotions with this guy.

I look up at Riza, the enemy who sat with me all that time ago, sighing away the tension.

"Misaki," I answer, surprised at how quickly it came to me. "My name is Misaki."

Riza nods, eyes burning with questions that she's polite enough to control.

"Misaki," she tests it, watching my reaction. It's the first time I've been called by it. Different. Plain. Nothing special. "So _that_ was it. Great to see you again."

"You too," I remark, silently. "You too."


	7. Misaki

Colonel Roy Mustang.

The flame alchemist who scorched my skin at the Ishval war. The one who stalked me into the forest, who had yet to fully explain why. Basically assaulted me. Harassed me. Taunted me. The man who burned (_again_) my shoulder to cauterize a wound.

Overall, just a real piece of worthless (_insert strong choice of word here_).

To think I'd actually concerned myself over him.

No, no. To think I'd actually come to think that he, in some fantasy way, brought me back to the land of living.

_Ha_!

What was I doing here? Seriously. How in the world did I find myself in this situation? Did I ever plan on driving my best friend to suicide, have my wings feeling like I've been bashed repeatedly by a mace, and then being forced unconscious by that little, good for nothing-

Deep breath. It's ok. It's all good.

It's all just fan freaking tastic.

"Misaki…? Oh good, you're awake."

Misaki… oh right. That's me. I had to get used to it. Seeing as how I'm being held hostage, against my will, inside this tiny, confined space, I'd probably be called Misaki for quite a while. Just where the devil was I? And good god! My head is pounding. My shoulder is screaming to fall off. My throat _hurts_. And I am just this close, _this close_ to decapitating the Colonel if he even sets foot in the same room as me.

"Misaki? How are you feeling?"

I move at a snail pace, trying to pull up to a seated position. A hand braces against my back, tenderly helping.

"Ugh," I say intelligently, waving away Riza's insistence to assist. "I've been better."

Riza respects my space, retreating to a comfortable, plush-looking chair. She watches me, like a protective hawk, ready to catch me if I were to pathetically tumble off this- whatever it was. What the hell was this? A marshmallow?

I press my palms against cushions. Soft. Real cushions. A sofa.

Glancing around, I notice I'm in a living room. I think that's what city folk called it. Although it's dreadfully small, and tiny and confined… Ugh. Definitely not the open woods.

"You look terrible."

I narrow my eyes at Riza. She's smiling friendly enough. I dismiss her comment as being harmless.

"Yeah," I sigh, squeezing my fists as I attempt sliding back against the armrest. "Well. You'd look terrible too, living in the trees and such."

"Good point," she notes.

It gets kind of awkward after that.

I'm not particularly a fan of these uncomfortable silences, so I spend it staring at the almost nauseatingly safe, give to your guests when they're cold, cuddle by the fireplace, blanket, covering my beaten up legs. I grimace. Actually paying attention to my scratches, burns, and other nasty marks, I'm realizing just how terrible, as Riza pointed, I looked. It's almost insulting how bad I seem in comparison to all her clean, polished (_polished?)_ furniture. Geez. With a deep inhale, I smell perfection and a hint of gunpowder. Riza. Ever the loyal, professional sniper.

She coughs, twiddling with, sure enough, pistols. I raise an eyebrow questionably, curious as to where she hid those and when she had decided to pull them out. Beaming, she's a child, disassembling and cleaning away.

"Riza?" I venture, strangely lulled by the small clinks and clicks of metal against metal. "Would you mind telling me, because I _think_ I remember, but I'm not really happy with _what_ I remember…?" I huff, reminiscing. "Would you just tell me what happened…umm…"

"Two days ago?" she finishes for me. Snapping together the finishes touches.

I nod, "Yes, two…eh? Eh?!" I straighten, wondering if I heard right. Two days?! I'd been knocked out for _two_ entire days?!

Riza puts away her toy, nodding. She's wearing her uniform. And being drawn by the ticking of a clock, I find it is half past eight. In the afternoon.

"You were…er…"

"Put to sleep," I groan, taking her hesitant speech to give away the fact that, yes indeed, I had been forced to black out.

"Y-Yeah," she says, pursing her lips. "We brought you back here to my place, and I made sure to wake you up every once in a while for some soup and water." She grows grim at the mentioning, folding her hands into her lap. "You refused each time." In alarm, she perks up, startling me. "Oh, how rude of me! You're awake now, and you must be starving, let me go get some…" She took off into what I supposed was the kitchen, swinging open cabinets and dropping plates. As I try telling her not to stress herself, a bottle of water shoves its way into my hands, dripping from perspiration.

"Th-Thanks?" I say as a question, entranced by her generosity. Now that I think about it, I _am_ rather thirsty. So I take a few gulps, setting the drink down at a nearby table, stunned to find a bowl of steaming noodle soup waiting for me. _That was fast_.

"Thanks," I say again. She smiles, taking her spot once more. "So," I continue after a spoonful of soup. My mind tells it it's delicious, but my stomach takes it like a ball of acid, contracting painfully. "This is your home?"

Riza considers this before replying, "Well, more of an apartment. Originally the Colonel-" She stops, flushing.

"The Colonel, what?" I prod, failing miserably at concealing the edge in my tone. What more was the Colonel willing to do? When I was _unconscious_. "What'd he do?"

"He didn't do anything," she assures. "When we arrived back in the city, Hughes and I were deciding whether or not we should have taken you to the hospital…"

"Which you didn't, right?" I hope, heart drumming. She shakes her head and I exhale in relief. The action brings a questioning glint in her eyes, but she continues without intrusion.

"No, the Colonel refused."

He refused? He actually listened to my demand?

"Instead he insisted that we take you to his place," she says, sounding suddenly tired.

"Right," I grumble. Seems like something a man of his character would want.

"Sorry," she apologizes on his behalf, raising the hate level towards him up another notch. His assistant, his Lieutenant, had to apologize for the idiot? "I made sure to make a convincing point in getting you here instead."

She said that while looking back over to her reassembled gun and I shuddered.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me quite yet," she sighs with an annoyed scowl. "That man can be… difficult."

_I'll_ say.

"Every once in a while, he'd demand I let him come and visit you. Kept on trying to move past the door when I walked through."

"You…don't say."

She shakes her head and I have the urge to pat her on the shoulder in support for the poor woman.

"I really am sorry about him. He's…" she trails off, struggling with the adjectives.

"An ass? A complete moron? Jerk?"

Riza's eyes go soft, melting my anger. "He may seem that way, but in actuality…he's really a good person."

"I find that a little hard to believe," I scoff, swallowing another portion of soup and emptying the bottle of water. My intestines churn. My belly aches.

Riza shrugs, makes an 'oh well' face. "You'll know what I mean."

I pause at her statement, gazing down at my lap. Again with the hinted possibilities of there being a future with me in it. Of course I had all too happily given into a new identity, but I never really came close to considering accompanying my three saviors. There was still much about me that I couldn't erase, as hard as I've tried. Much too much to take in. What if they discovered my history? What if they asked why stopping even my heart didn't kill me? It's filled with so many risks and so little benefits. Even though the pros sounded pretty tempting, the cons were enough to scare me. People were still alive and seeking revenge. I wouldn't want anyone to become involved.

Oh come on. Who's to say they even wanted me here in the first place? They probably made some pledge to help any injured person, stranger or not. That included me. They noticed I was in pretty crappy condition, and thought to complete their duties as caring officials and take me in. Even though it was forced upon. Literally. As soon as I heal, which I hope will happen soon, they'll be relieved to see me off. Maybe even now, they want me gone.

"Misaki? You've been staring off for a while…"

"Hmm?" I raise my head. "Oh, sorry."

"You're not planning to leave anytime soon are you?" Riza asks with a notch of concern. It's only because she's kind. She's just being polite.

"I'll try to leave as soon as possible," I answer with a smile. My stomach is really beginning to feel bruised. It felt as if it was rejecting everything I dropped into my mouth. Subtly, I move to find a more comfortable position, cringing at the stress it puts on my shoulder.

"No need," Riza says firmly. "With those injuries, you're going to be staying in the area for at least a couple of weeks."

"Couple of weeks?" I say, stunned. "That's too long. I'll be good to go, I'm sure, in like a couple of days."

"Absolutely not," says Riza, switching into a mothering tone. "Even if you're well enough, so you may claim, to walk around the entire city. If it's under two weeks, the Colonel and I will make sure to it that you remain close."

"But," I protest, cursing my damn state. I could hardly move. "That's ridiculous-"

"What's ridiculous is the fact that after two years I find you in the middle of Amestris, at gunpoint with a dangerous killer, and you were involved in one of the most terrifying massacres, which was not even a couple months ago. That's ridiculous, _Misaki_."

I flinch at how she stretches out the last word. Just by doing that, she confirms that she remembers our conversation clearly from, man… _two years_. Two years had gone by. That couldn't be right. It seems only yesterday we were sitting against that wall, talking about people who were actually alive.

"There's no way it's been two years."

Riza shakes her head. "Just about. Maybe I'm behind a couple of months, but that's it. Point being, you've been through so much, you're not only here to recover from physical wounds, but-"

"Emotional," I say, suddenly mourning for all the experiences I never had the chance to go through. Always I'd been out on the road, away from people, just waiting for the next day. And the next. And the next. What all I'd missed, whether fun or work, I wouldn't know. _Years_ of missing out.

"Yes," Riza says quietly. "So you now that you understand, I want you promise me you'll abide by my rules. Two weeks, _minimum_. Stay within the city, when you are able to move comfortably and with _full_ confidence you won't faint, _with_, and only with, permission from yours truly." She stops, considers. "And maybe the Colonel."

"Wha-"

"Actually, you have to have either the Colonel or I to accompany you on your walks. Whenever you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to call me with that phone over there." She points to a white telephone hanging on the wall. "The number to reach me is already written on that piece of paper, by the stove. The Colonel's is on there as well, although I'd prefer if you contacted me first. You are not to touch anything hazardous, the oven, knives, none of that."

"Oh come on," I groan, frowning at her instructions. Her suffocating, childish instructions. "You can't be serious. I've been a knight, for god sake. Sharp and dangerous things are not an issue."

"In your condition it is, and I'd prefer that you not have any triggering evidence of your past difficulties."

Meaning she didn't want me to have a freak out and remember Ishval and death and flames…

"Then does this mean I'm banned from speaking to the Colonel?" I ask sarcastically.

"No," she says seriously, standing up to walk over to a closed door. "This is my room. Usually I have it open, but seeing how I don't want to disturb you, feel free to knock at any given time if you need my assistance. I'll try my best to wake up and help."

"Listen, you can drop the formality," I point out amusingly. Eating another bite, making a bitter face. I think I was going to be sick. Riza ignores my comment, showing me where the sink, extra pillows, food, blankets, and bathroom were. I stop her at bathroom, willing my legs to budge. Yep. Definitely going to be sick.

"Riza…" I mutter, absolutely humiliated by the idea of asking for assistance in _getting up_.

She notices my pale face and darts out and into the bathroom, bringing a trash can. I'd be grateful for her trying to leave me some of my dignity, but I just didn't have the stomach. As soon as the container hit the floor, I was heaving out the only meal fueling my system.

There came a knock at the door.

"Lieutenant? I'm going to assume that's your guest demonstrating just how much she hates me?"

The voice makes me vomit even more aggressively. Riza rubs at her forehead.

"Let me in. If she's awake, I'd like to at least exchange a friendly hello."

Gazing down, I note the small bits of blood. As soon as the thought of hiding it enters, Riza has already taken notice, leaving and returning with a napkin and warm, wet towel. She takes away the filth, wiping at my mouth, ignoring my protests to doing it myself, and tells me to lie down. Unhappy, I obey, letting her fold the warm towel upon my head. It's actually pretty soothing.

"I'd give you something for your stomach, but I'm fairly certain your body would reject that too."

Another heavy knock.

"Lieutenant. Open the door."

Riza sighs, assuring me she'll take care of it, and walks to door, opening it and shutting it carefully behind her. With her slim figure, she was able to make it to which I didn't even catch a glimpse of the flame alchemist. I was fine with that.

What I wasn't fine with was the heavy spell forcing my eyes to close and my mind to drift.

* * *

_"__No way. You're such a liar."_

_"__It's true! You have to believe me. They were holding hands and getting all…grabby."_

_"__Mia the jeweler and Markus the butcher? Really?"_

_"__Yes! I saw it with my own two eyes. Now I'm going to have to go and wash them with soap."_

_"__Maybe even with a little bit of alcohol, yeesh."_

_Naomi giggled, at my horrified expression, holding her stomach._

_"__Jesus, Nao," I tried scowling disapprovingly, my mouth itching to smile. "Way to come and almost make me lose my dinner. Dis-gust-ing."_

_"__Oh whatever," she laughed, leaning against me. "You know, right now, I'll bet-"_

_"__Christ!" I yelled, punching her in the shoulder, hiccupping a few chuckles. "I do _not_ need to know that!" _

_Naomi continued to laugh, rubbing the spot I hit her. "Ouch. Mind the arm, I've got a job."_

_"__Oh whatever," I snorted, punching her again, lightly. "What is it? Telling people how to properly decorate their homes?"_

_"__Ok, it's not my fault that our ancestors have no grasp over the word, presentation."_

_I shrugged, know that going any further would unleash her inner chatterbox. "Whatever."_

_We stopped talking for a moment and collapsed onto our backs, gazing up at the stars, relishing in our daily tradition. _

_I loved this spot. It was just above the fruit stand, which we could sneak into at any time due to our craftiness, and concealed in one of the outer areas. The nights were growing cooler. The wind grazed gently against our exposed skin, combed through our hair. We had just finished up our meals, leaving the moms to do the dishes and the dads to talk about guy stuff. _

_We were a couple of friends enjoying the quietude of our town._

_"__Hey Kaze," Naomi breaks the silence._

_"__Hmm?"_

_"__The prince's lights are on." _

_I lift up just enough to see what she's pointed out. Sure enough, the great palace was dark and ominous, all but a square that of course Naomi would know to be Prince Claudio's. "Yuh-huh," I say boringly. Naomi made a sound of offense._

_"__Did you not hear me say the _prince's_ lights are on?"_

_"__Oh no," I teased, smirking at her. "I'm certain even he did."_

_She responded with a hard smack on my thigh._

_"__Calm down, your highness," I joked, shimmying away from another one of her rage fits._

_"__Oh, would you just drop the act already?"_

_I eyed her dully. "What act?"_

_"__The, 'I'm Kaze, the one and only girl in the entire world that doesn't think that boy is _fine'_ act."_

_"__Nao," I chuckled. "Don't you think you're being a little extreme? You've never even spoken to him. What if he's a prick?"_

_She looked horrified, sitting up and yanking me with her. "He is not a _prick_. And my god, K. I _have_ spoken to him before."_

_"__Yes," I sighed, "As have the other fifty something girls in the Prince Claudio fan club."_

_"__Hey," she said sharply, pointing a finger threateningly. "That club was created to boost his confidence and let him know he is never alone."_

_"__Oh I'm sure it boosts his ego quite a bit."_

_"__Whatever, okay? I'm just- ugh!" She threw her hands dramatically into the air, frustrated._

_"__What's the matter grumps?"_

_Forcefully, she turns my face to look at her._

_"__Spill it."_

_I tried shoving her away, laughing. "Quite it! Spill what?"_

_With a grumble, she pinches my cheeks. Something she knew I absolutely hated. "Ow!"_

_"__Who do you like?"_

_"__Oh, not this again," I complained, tugging at her wrists. "Ugh, would you stop already?"_

_"__I will never stop until you come clean!" she yelled, pinching harder. "There has got to be some boy out there lucky enough to win your love!"_

_I rolled my eyes, used to these random outbursts. "Could you be any louder? And cut your nails, woman. I can't feel my face."_

_Reluctantly, she released me from her clutches, unsatisfied. _

_"__You have got to be interested in _someone_."_

_"__Nope."_

_"__Why not?" she whined, pulling on my sleeve. _

_"__Why do you _care_?" _

_She paused, glancing back over at the palace, then settled back onto me._

_"__Don't you want to be in love?" she asked in a softer voice. I shrugged again, sliding over to the edge and reaching down into the unlocked stash of fruit. "Hey. I'm being serious."_

_I came back up with a clump of raspberries. After popping a couple into my mouth, I took in her attentive state. She was really dying to have me answer this type of stuff. But I wasn't that _girly_. In fact, all this time, I'd been think constantly about hitting the yard and pulling out the dummies and swords. Maybe try some archery with Papa. He'd always wanted to teach me. Fighting was in my blood. And Naomi, being the only one I cared enough to hang out with, was sick of it. Always trying to get me to go look at clothes and flirt with boys. _Eh-yuck_. _

_"__I don't know, Nao," I sighed, crossing my legs and trying to engage into my inner womanliness? "Honestly, I think that love is such a trivial thing. Well, I mean the love you're talking about. Of course I love you and my family, but to take the time to know a boy and have these… 'Feelings'? That's just not me."_

_She watched me for a moment, waiting for more, but I continued to stuff down berries._

_"__You know those'll give you a stomachache if you eat too much."_

_I shrugged. Naomi frowned, annoyed. "What now prissy pants?" I grinned._

_"__You keep on shrugging and it's really, really annoying! I hate when you shrug!"_

_"__Oh. Someone's a bit stingy. Are you sad that you're here with loveless me and not there in the Prince's room doing… who knows what?"_

_She turned a hilarious shade of pink, attempting to steal a raspberry. I dodged with ease. She lunged again, and I rolled away, still eating._

_"__Mark my words, Kaze," she fumed, still chasing after my food. "You are going to fall in love with someone and you're going to fall _hard_."_

_"__The girl threatens me," I laughed, taunting her by waving the final berry in my fingers. Then with a smirk, I pull out my worst Prince Claudio impersonation. "Come Princess Naomi, come steal my precious fruit and let me tend to your sleeping flower!"_

_"__I'll kill you!" she screamed, running after me, laughing hysterically all the way home._

_The light in the palace went dark._

* * *

I wake up with a smile on my face.

"Looks like you had a pleasant dream."

Startled, I open my eyes, feeling the comforts of my memory slowly fade away. Riza is reading a book, glancing up to flash a friendly smile.

"Hungry?" she asks. I shake my head and a frown takes place. "Well, you should eat sometime today." Closing the book, she sets it down on the table and picks up her dishes, leaving behind a full plate of eggs and bacon. As starving as I am, I really can't bring myself to eat. I know I'd only get sick.

The sounds of dishes clattering and water running has me scooching back up to a sitting position. I check over my shoulder, with difficulty, seeing Riza doing the dishes.

"You're still in your uniform," I say, fighting the drowsiness of sleep. Riza nods, concentrating on her chores.

"Yes, I am. But don't think that I sleep in this thing," she says, chuckling. "I'm normal if you were wondering. You've just been choosing the worst times to get up."

At that, I check the closest clock. Six. Six in the afternoon? No, she made breakfast.

"You get up this early for work?" I ask, eyeing the plate again. Nope. Can't do it.

"Yes. It's demanding, but I'm fine with it." The faucet turns off, and she walks over, frowning at my untouched plate. "Not going to try?"

Sheepishly, I shake my head. "S-Sorry."

With a shrug and a sigh, she picks it up, empties it in the trash, summoning a wave of guilt, and tosses the plate into the empty sink.

"It's fine, I guess," Riza says at my apologetic look. "But seriously, you need to eat something at some point."

Collecting her things, she starts for the door, but then thinks twice about it. Walking into her bedroom, I depict the noise of a drawer opening and closing, and she appears, holding a bundle of clothes.

"I'm not saying that you're filthy or anything," she assures, placing the clothes neatly on the table. "But I'm suggesting you take a nice, how shower, not too hot of course, but these clothes should fit…" She looks doubtful, seeing as I'm shorter. This comes to crush my pride. "Ah, it'll be a little baggy, but not to worry. It's comfortable, I promise. Hopefully you'll be able to move about a little easier today."

I nod, then remember about my equipment. "Umm… Where are my things?"

Riza stiffens before telling me, "I've hidden them."

"Wh-What?!" I shout, trying to get up to no avail. "What do you mean _hidden_?"

She picks up her work things once again, beginning to leave. "It's as I say. I hid them somewhere safe to make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Those are mine! Who's to say I'd do something stupid?!"

Firmly, she passes a stone hard expression, freezing me to the spot. Suddenly I _do_ feel like I'd do something really stupid. She's right. Everything she says is absolutely right, ha, ha.

With a blinding smile, she adds, "Oh, and don't be alarmed to see me during noon for lunch. I'll be checking to make sure you've eaten something, so try not to sleep _all_ day."

And with that, she shut the door, leaving me to shake away the small nagging fear at the back of my mind. Riza Hawkeye could be frightening when she wanted to be.

I glance over at the pile of clothes.

Shower did sound rather tempting.

With a yawn, I do a small prayer in hopes I'd be able to move to the bathroom and back. Much to my joy, my feet hit the carpet, bare, and I only suffer a few shots of pain to the shoulder. As long as I keep that entire arm slack and use my good one, I'm actually able to function.

I'm almost compelled to throw out a victorious squeal, but instead settle for my reward being a nice, hot, well done scrub down. Clothes being a vital thing to have, I gather together for the first time in months, a new outfit. Pajamas really, but a wonderful gift none-the-less. At the rate of the elderly on a walker, I adventure on to the mysterious domain of cleanliness and relaxation.

When I've traveled the treacherous distance to, not simply the shower, a _bathtub_, I reconsider my plans and fall into a craving for a bubbly soak. And much to my greatest pleasure, in one guess I find that the Lieutenant had a bottle chuck full of bubble-breeding amazingness with my name on it in a nearby cabinet. It shouldn't come as a surprise. I was sure Riza, having to put up with Roy every single day at work, was completely entitled to letting all those cooped up frustrations and annoyances melt away in a perfectly drawn bath. Just as I was more than glad to embark in, myself.

The mechanics are simple enough. With a grunt I twist the knob, watching with a growing excitement, hot water gradually filling the tub. I plop in the plug, add the syrupy soap, and nearly attack the first forming bubbles. The inner child of me wants to take a handful of the suds and start rubbing it all over my face in ridiculous decorations, but I must remember my age. I am an adult. Not some nine year old girl.

Sighing, I withdraw, parched for a glass of water. My long desired soak could wait. The water was pouring in a slow rate anyways.

I leave the room and ransack her cabinets for a cup. After a ravenous search, I come across a plastic container, coming to the irritating realization that there were absolutely _no_ glasses. Like Riza had taken the time and effort to baby proof the kitchen. I even check up on the silverware and find nothing but spoons and a couple of forks. A few cabinets were sealed tight. The stove, at my own personal experimentation, didn't even spark a flame.

The woman really took having a wounded guest seriously. A stubborn side of me hopes to encounter her with a fight about the matter, but my more intelligent side recalls the cold, warning stares she exchanged at the last minute of her departure, and thinks otherwise. It wasn't as if I _had_ to have a warm snack or anything. So I go with my original destination and fill up the cup with sparkling, delicious water. Gulping it down, I momentarily let my mind wonder where my protective companion could have stored my belongings.

I do a brief check on the tub, hardly making any process, and determine it will take a while. So why not do a little snooping?

Thus the investigation for my stolen things commences.

I'm so pumped with determination, I don't hear the sound of a doorknob rattling.

First her bedroom. If anything proved to be suspicious and an ideal place for putting away treasured items, I guess her room would be a perfect starter. Gleefully, because I was quite the snooping cat and I loved these sorts of scavenger hunts, I professionally twist the knob, and grin at the lack of resistance. Music to my ears, the frame creaks and I limp inside, passing by her bed, just begging for me to sink in its plushness, and come across another door. Closet, I guess. I paw at the knob, wondering how observant Riza would be in returning home. If she knew I had been in here, would she be furious? I shudder. The room seemed to have quite the draft seeping in. Despite the windows being closed…

I thrust open the door, swinging back and forth between the racks of clothes. Or, more appropriately, _uniforms_. Rows and rows of dry cleaned, smelling of hundreds of toxins, uniforms. And just a couple feet up, lines and stacks of glinting, poised, dangerous guns. I slam the door, waiting out a weight of nausea. This woman was nuts. This woman was _crazy_. She had a hoarding problem with guns of all things. And to think I was sleeping this close to all this- ammunition.

I swallow, imagining the soldier walking in and seeing me going through her stuff. Her _goods_.

What followed in my imagination wasn't all too pretty, so I hobble as quickly as I can out, shutting the door with wide, alert eyes. My equipment could wait. It wasn't worth facing the wrath of Riza the _sniper_, _Christ_.

With a casual brush of my hair, falling into my eyes, I make my way back over to the bathroom. At the sight of the tub, I fail at muffling a gasp. Bubbles. So many damn bubbles.

I love bubbles.

Screw being mature. Being sure not to grab with my deadened arm, I snatch out a hand and collect a large, beautiful mass of suds, closing my fingers into a tight fist and watching in awe, the dots of smaller foamy, cutesy bubbles flying around. A few land on my face, and I relish in the pure wonderment of the moment. I hadn't encountered such sweet smelling suds in _years_.

Mom used to constantly bathe me in this when I was a young one. And god, I loved it.

I can't wait anymore! With bated breath, I find the strength to close the door I entered, cradling my numb shoulder. I'm trying to figure out just how I was going to shed out of my clothing, slowly peeling my shirt upwards to mid stomach, oblivious to someone clicking the front door open.

Well, this just was not going to work. With an exasperated grunt, I contemplate just diving in with my attire on. I take off my elbow material, walk over to the edge, and impatiently swing my feet over and into the bowl, my feet disappearing under the white beads of pure delight. I'd think of how to get undressed later. For now, I just want to absorb the soothing heat into my aching calves and mess around~

I scoop up a clump of bubbles, bringing it to my face and smelling it.

The door (I failed to notice there were two) I hadn't bothered locking, burst open.

The Colonel was standing with a stunned look, keys clutched in his hand.

I had snapped my head in the direction of the intrusion, keeping my sudsy hand where it was, blinking confusingly at Roy.

He doesn't bother to explore the room. Just stays motionless, staring at my baffled face.

We stare at each other, unsure of what we were supposed to say.

My brain, however, didn't seem sure how to _shut up._

_Sweet jesus. Holy crap. Close. Too close. What if I had managed getting out of my clothes? Then he would have just entered the room with me naked. And how did he even manage to get in here anyways? Riza refused to have him here, but oh my god we aren't saying anything why isn't anyone talking. This is the same bastard who fried your leg three years ago so it's simple, just yell at him or something. My god this is the longest anyone's ever not talked. Oh my dear lord please just say something anything just anything just say something. God. Why is he just standing there? Why is he staring at my face like that? What is going? Say something! Just say-!_

"You…didn't knock…"

_Why the hell did I bother talking? That was the stupidest thing you could have ever said, my god, now you're just-ugh what is wrong with you. What's wrong with me? Just maybe he'll leave. What the-_

My thoughts were interrupted by the terrible sound of Roy, snorting then breaking into a fit of chuckles.

_What_?

"What- What the hell is so funny?! And why are you in here?! Get out!" I yell, seething with rage. Of all the people to come in and witness this. Of all the people in the _entire city_. Of all the people _ever_. Why him?!

He's not keeling over with a giggling fit, but it's pretty damn rude, his occasional hiccups of laughter. I'm just about to give him a real piece of inner rage until he suddenly points a finger at the mirror. Doesn't say anything. Just points. Thrown off guard, I take a glance at my reflection, and watch myself turn into three different shades of red.

At his grand entry, I had moved my head a bit too quickly from my full hand, taking with it a cluster of bubbles. And now I had that beautiful sudsy fashion statement of the year, all. Over. My. Face.

At my blushing cheeks, I catch movement and know Roy is coming closer. Still chuckling.

"That's-"

I don't hear the rest of his sentence as I throw out my palms, demanding he stay away, and forgetting of why I was in this apartment in the first place.

With a yelp, my hand flew to my shoulder, and the extra motion throws me off balance. And I tumble. Into the tub.

It's easy enough for me to pop back out, shaking away the soap in my eyes. My good hand wipes away droplets of water, and I'm looking at Roy, his own arms extended in a sense of trying to prevent my humiliating plunge. However, with his slow reflexes, he stood there, surprised, blinking, and _wet_. Apparently he had been close enough to the splash zone, dripping water to the bathroom floor. Riza's bathroom floor. Oh dear.

Riza was such a perfectionist. What would she do if she walked in now?

Never mind that! Roy was still in here, soaked, looking at me, sitting in a bubbly tub, also soaked, and looking back at him with conflicting shock and embarrassment.

Suddenly his mouth quivers.

I risk a glimpse at the mirror behind him and take in the goofy bits of bubbles covering my hair, face, neck, _everything_, with horror. Roy breaks into another fit of laughter, leaning back against the counter, trying to direct it to the side, covering his annoying sounds of delighted humor away from me. Not that it did any good. It all came back to the same conclusion: the bastard was laughing _at_ me. And I can't freaking speak with this crap ton load of _shame_.

When he's calmed down enough to the occasional shake of his shoulders, he faces back towards me and tries falling into a more serious expression.

"Doesn't," he tries, stopping himself to swallow away a fighting smile. When he coughs, looking professional once again, he continues, "Doesn't one usually need to _take off_ her clothes to fully enjoy a rejuvenating bath?"

He breaks down into a snort at my hardened expression.

"Doesn't," I spit, recovering enough of my spunk but still unable to pull myself out, because I _couldn't_. "Doesn't one usually _knock_ before entering a bathroom _in use_?"

"Doesn't one usually _lock_ the door when it's in use?" he retorts, shimmying out of his uniform jacket.

"What are you doing?" I say alarmed. He doesn't pause, flashing a smirk.

"Joining you, what else?"

Defensively, I push as far away from him as I can, ignoring the burning sensation crawling up my throat and sinking into my cheeks. "Hell no!" I shout, glaring at what now was simply a buttoned shirt. Thankfully, dry. So he doesn't strip any further. Roy chuckles, taking his dripping uniform and hanging it over the curtain bar, uncomfortably close to where I sat, water still rising up to my stomach. He shuts off the water for me, putting his hands onto the sides of the tub, leaning forward with a crooked sneer.

"Need a hand, bubbles?" he says snidely.

"Don't call me that," I argue, veins throbbing. This guy was _unbelievable_. "You can just stay the hell away from me."

Roy's smile slips for a moment, and becomes replaced with…sadness? But before I can wonder why he'd suddenly choose now to be hurt by my remark, it disappears and remains as a smirk. Slowly, he steps away, and starts to walk out.

"Bubbles?" he calls out before leaving. I tighten, firing a death glare into the back of his ruffled top. "If you need any assistance in shedding out of those wet clothes, I'll be in the next room." He says this, tossing a wink my way.

With that, he closes the door, leaving me screaming a series of swears.


	8. Cut the Ties

By the time I had calmed to a more sensible point and maneuvered my way out of the tub, wiping away any evidence of bubbles clinging to my skin and clothes (which were now at a point of sticking uncomfortably to every inch of my body), the Colonel was impatiently pacing in the living room, frowning at the spot I'd been sleeping in for the past few days. It had escaped my mind he had taken off his uniform jacket earlier, so seeing him in a plain long sleeved shirt was a strange sight. Seeing him only in his work attire, I had come to the point of believing that was all the man ever wore. He giving the impression of being "normal" was almost unnervingly bizarre.

But that didn't change the fact that I was very much pissed.

"How the hell did you get in here?" I hiss, unconsciously covering my shoulder, despite the dulled pain. I recall the key he held in his hand when barging so rudely into the bathroom. But Riza wouldn't dare give her own apartment key to him of all people, would she? She had told me her denial of the Colonel taking me into his own care. Undoubtedly, she had a respectable place in her heart for me. To allow Roy to walk inside, after personally encouraging me to take a shower, would be horrendous on her part. The cruelty! The humiliation!

The Colonel turns to face me with a look of contentment. A look that said he hadn't nor would he ever forget of what occurred in the bathroom.

"I have my ways," he simply says, ballsy enough to plant himself right smack on the place I'd been slumbering away so peacefully. The very spot that I now wish homicidally to paint with his blood. With a frenzy of internal screaming, I stay right where I am. It would be a risk, traveling any closer to the bastard. I'd like to keep my skin purified of the idiot. Asides from the blackened scars on my thigh and waist, and the purplish smudge of shoulder I still had.

"You do realize you're still wearing those clothes and dripping all over the place, don't you?" he points out, earning a sarcastic, bitter laugh.

"_No_. The thought never occurred to me."

Roy shrugs, raising his hands submissively. "No need to be angry. I wasn't able to see anything."

"Yes, but you very well could have," I snap.

"Can't figure your way out with that wound, hmm?"

For a moment I pause, struck by the accuracy of his words. Indeed, I could not manage a simple get away from these damn clothes because of this damn scorch mark the damn man had burnt onto me. Thanks to him, I am driven to a poor, pitiful condition of possibly needing someone else to help me out of my own clothing just to get cleaned up. I, Misaki, an experienced fighter and exceptionally skilled hunter, have been downgraded to a hopeless sack of dead weight, being tended to, cooked for, and possibly, shamefully undressed. Aggravation could hardly apply to what I felt. It loomed more like devastation.

To Roy's question, I remain reserved, carelessly tossing a confirming glare. It's enough to fuel his compulsive desire to tease.

"Well, I mean I _could_ help. You only need to ask."

"No, I'm quite alright," I scowl, regarding the man with a disliking distrust. He picks up on my cynical behavior, bringing a hand to his chin in thought. Ever so casually, his gaze flickers down to my covered thighs and I shrink away in self-consciousness. "I'd prefer for you to refrain from invading my space with your eyes."

He doesn't come up with another insult or low comment. Instead, he leans into his seat, suggesting a tiresome conversation. It's then I take in his youth and remind myself just how much this man had been forced to grow through. It's then it really settles, the childhood he could be lacking. Something we both had in common.

"Which one?"

I tilt my head curiously, wondering if I heard him correctly.

"Which one, what?" I echo. Roy leans forward, his elbows resting on knees, his bare, exposed hands interlacing with one another to provide a platform for his chin. I'm randomly visualizing his posture, picturing the background as an office. Clearly an image forms. The Colonel in his natural habitat. His intimidating, concentrated stance. His eyes close. His mouth forms a strong, thin line.

"Which did I… Which leg did I-?"

He seems unable to formulate the sentence. It hardly matters. I'm perfectly aware of what he is trying to say.

"Which leg did your flames hit two years ago?" I assume, raising a brow in question. He nods, maintaining that professional, rehearsed look. All signs of the earlier boy, laughing and revealing rare crinkles of humor in his eyes are completely eradicated. This man is all business.

Roy Mustang. The man I had come to remember as the alchemist who burnt a piece of the past, permanently. He was sitting here before me, having recently learned of his interaction. There is no way for me to be sure of how he feels. I cannot decipher his emotions. I can only guess by his incomplete prodding, his supposed inability to properly ask where he had inflicted those scars, whether he truly regretted and never wished to bring harm to his enemy at the time.

My reaction in the woods could have been regarded as a bit extreme.

"Does it really matter?" I reply with a twinge of guilt. I had the strongest assumption that he had taken my words directly to the heart. Really thinking, I come to understand just how indebted I should have been to him. A silly, accidental burn from the past was nothing to fuss over.

"I caused you harm. I basically tattooed a terrible date into your skin. There is no excuse for me to cower behind, so I may as well come out and say in a severe understatement: I'm sorry."

Touching. The Colonel apologizing. Despite my, ok I'll admit, impulsive strike, and the frivolous taunts and leers, the man did come to my rescue and, in an unorthodox manner… possibly saved my life. He took in my request to evade the infirmary. He sealed, didn't intentionally burn, my wound. And because of that, he may have prevented loss of a precious limb. Really, pushing aside the burdens of the past and his ridiculous remarks, the Colonel sent vibes of…genuine compassion. It's a touching moment, but for some strange reason…

"Don't you have work to do, _Colonel_?" I say acidly.

I choose to be a complete jerk.

Roy suffers the blow with a stunned, pained expression, then switches into his smug character. Acting as if he couldn't care less about having me hate his guts.

"Yeesh. You sound exactly like the Lieutenant. Might as well say 'get back to doing your paperwork, sir'."

Why was I being so cold?

"Get back to doing your paperwork, _sir_."

His eyes widen, his head raising in shock. "Y-Yes, just like that. How the devil-?"

"That wasn't me," I say, suddenly keenly aware of an extra presence. With a sneaking glimpse, I choke back a startled yell. There is Riza and she _appears_ to be composed and notably sane, but there is a frighteningly suffocating atmosphere, and so I carefully step out of her way. Once I do, Roy has her completely within his sights, and I know it's not just my eyes playing tricks when his face does a single twitch.

He and I both know the Colonel is a dead man.

"Sir," Riza says in such a calm, calm voice. "You're needed back at the office."

"L-Lieutenant," he stammers, leaping to his feet. "Ah, you've returned home…rather quickly. Yes, ah, paperwork. I'll be heading on out then." He almost trips, scurrying past me and out into the hallway.

"Sir?"

"Y-Yes, Lieutenant?" Roy stops, eyeing her with a visible bead of sweat.

"Your jacket."

"Right," he responds, flying back in and out at quite the impressive speed. In no time, he's down and running back out into the world of law and order. The sight comes to slightly humor me, Riza however, spinning back to observe my wet state and the chaotic mess in her bathroom, stole away my moment of comedy relief, replacing it with a gnawing terror.

Childishly, all I say is, "Everything was his doing."

Riza sighs, coming towards me shivering with a sudden realization: it's _cold_.

"Come on, now. Let's get you out of that. Once you've finished…" she trails off to pass a side glance at the halfway filled tub. "Bathing, apparently… The clothes I've set out for you should be easy enough for you to slip in. And if you can't, I have a robe somewhere around here."

"Th-That's alright," I stutter, baffled by her suspiciously kind gestures. "I'll, uh, manage."

She passes a look of disbelief. Taking a second glance at my gross state, I don't blame her.

Reluctantly, I follow her into the bathroom. She regards the flooded floor with a frown, opening a top cabinet to withdraw a couple of fluffy towels, covering my shivering body with one. Taking and pressing the other to the ground, absorbing the liquid, she speaks without turning to face me.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes?" I say as a question, as though fearing that is the wrong answer. "I mean, well, he didn't really do anything if that's what you mean."

She rises, bringing the dripping clump of towel.

"I hope you understand how serious the Colonel was."

What did she mean? Of course I understood how serious his apology was. I mean, I felt like it was legitimate. Wasn't it? It didn't agree with my sour response, but I hadn't planned to appear so…harsh.

She leaves the room, making me wonder if I was meant to tag along or just stay where I was. But before I could stress over the manner too much, she reenters empty handed, pulling the only open door to a close. Her hands fall onto her hips in a stern approach, waiting.

"So you heard?"

She nods, listening.

"Ah, umm. I do…"

"You sound convincing," she says facetiously, making her way to the tub, switching back on the water. I watch the lulling wave of steam rising into the ceiling, passing a shrug.

"Well. I guess it wasn't entirely his fault. What happened," I admit, pulling the towel around my shoulders closer. She says nothing more about the topic. With a single grunt, everything is dismissed and dealt with, for now.

"I'm just going to get your wounded arm out and you can do the rest."

Realizing she's actually going to help, I panic. My wings. Even by taking out a single sleeve, I risk her having the tiniest peek at my deepest secret. There's no way I could deal with that. The questions. The lies. But I couldn't just completely tell her off without setting suspicion. She'd no doubt brush away any tactics in feigning shyness. Just the thought of sheepishly admitting to being nervous about showing off a bare _shoulder_ was pathetic. 'I'm so insecure about showing off skin…'

No freaking way.

This is Riza. The girl I befriended in the midst of war. If she was really the woman I believed her to be at the time, then surely, she'd listen to one of my requests?

"Riza?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think that maybe when you're doing that… you could close your eyes?"

Well. That could've sounded a million times better.

Riza gives a look of confusion, takes a moment to observe my bandaged arm, then to my relief, agrees. But on one condition.

"You have to allow the Colonel to visit occasionally."

* * *

_Occasionally_.

In my dictionary, occasionally isn't frequently. In Riza and Roy's terms… I had no clue what it meant. All I knew was Riza never saw my wings and took to her agreement, refraining from any temptations of discovering my feathery secret. She left me to bathe myself, thank goodness, and made her way back to HQ.

I cleaned up nicely, avoiding any further compulsions to play amongst the bubbles. With both doors securely locked, double checking every now and then, I even gave my wings a good scrub down. As should have been expected, the transmutation circles etched in the midst of them had punctured holes from the bullets. Luckily, the ammo had passed through the tissue and I could keep from worrying whether they were still inside the flesh. My alchemy, with a few curious tests, remained useless. Not a single typhoon or whirlwind or bolt of light could be conjured. I came to the conclusion that, due to previous experiences, my wings would eventually heal. They may not have been attached to me since birth, but they were without a doubt, connected to my nerves. So it'd only make sense if they gradually recover, only at the normal speed of the average human. An estimated two weeks for me. Just as Riza insisted I stay. The shoulder, however, would probably take an entire month. Thankfully, and hopefully, my alchemy will be restored long before then and I'd simply cheat my way into a suitable condition and get out of this city, ASAP.

As for now, I had to worry about keeping my distance. Cut the ties. Don't get attached to these people. Including Maes Hughes, who was now smiling at me in the open front doorway, his eyes glistening with a blinding admiration.

Hadn't he said he was a Colonel as well? Maybe Riza had been referring to him.

"Hi…" I greet half-heartedly, wondering why I even bothered opening the door in the first place. It wasn't my place to welcome in guests, yet I just went right ahead and came face to face with the man.

"Misaki! I just wanted to come in and see how you were doing. How's the arm?" Hughes asks with a genuine concern, politely staying out in the hallway to keep from intruding in my personal space. Gratefully, I step away, motioning him inside, despite the fact this really wasn't my place to do so. Oh well. Riza did say the Colonel. Nothing else specific. Hughes could come in because of her unclear message.

"Dead weight, pretty much," I answer without my usual bitterness. As Hughes carefully enters, shutting the door behind him, he gives the room a once over, smile sticking for show. Sitting down, I cross my legs on the cushion, leaning back to relax in the heavenly pajamas Riza lent. My hair was tied into a ponytail, faintly wet, flopped onto a towel I put on the back of the couch. Hughes chuckles, taking a seat into a loveseat.

"You seem comfortable," he teasingly points out, adjusting his glasses. I close my eyes in silent confirmation. "You eat anything yet?"

Reopening my gaze to him, watching me with a hidden concern, I reply: "I was planning to grab a snack in a bit."

Approvingly, he nods. He looks more relaxed at my reassurance, clasping his hands together. "Okay! Then how about this?" Reaching into a brown sack, I guess I failed to notice it earlier, he extracted a small sub, waving it pleasantly. "Would you mind if I shared my lunch break with you, today?"

Without thinking I say sure. After listening to the sound of rustling and unwrapping, it dawns on me that having a kind guy like Hughes in here having his lunch was the complete opposite of not getting attached. But how could I just change my mind and tell the man to leave? He was sweet enough to come in and check up on me, even though I shouldn't be one of his problems. Watching him take a hearty bite into his food, I worry about the lack of awkwardness. Not talking didn't come as uncomfortable to me. And based on the way he was beaming at the inhale of his sandwich, he really didn't mind either.

Once he finishes, he sighs happily, patting his stomach. I randomly wonder his age. He and Roy were apparently close. Childhood friends maybe? But Hughes seemed somehow more mature. Not old per say, but noticeably more grown up. Something about the way shadows loom dimly under his crinkling stare. Even with moments of appearing playful and energetic, there seemed something dark and serious in his nature.

"Mr. Hughes," I venture, earning a wide eyed snort and an insistence to refer to him as Hughes or even Maes. "Hughes," I correct myself, already accustomed to the title. "If you don't mind me asking, are you the same age as the Colonel?"

"Yep," he sings, crumbling up his trash. "Roy and I are both in our mid-twenties. Although, you probably thought I seemed a little older, hmm?"

"A bit," I say timidly, wondering if that was rude on my part. "But just by maybe a couple of years…"

Hughes laughs. "Ah. It's no doubt the facial hair. Looks great on me. Terrible on Roy."

Absurdly, I try picture the Colonel with a beard. The image makes me smile. "I'll bet," I say humorously.

It's a rarity to smile. It's sort of nice. With that small revealing, Hughes takes full charge and pulls us into a conversation. We speak of the Colonel, me listening to embarrassing stories that I assured I'd take to the grave (and possibly threaten the man with), Hughes laughing my retelling of our meeting in the woods. Willingly, I include mentioning of the girl in white and find myself thinking back to the Colonel's unfinished story. Hughes tells me more of his position in Central Command and trusts me with some previous cases he's worked through. I reluctantly tend to his obvious interest in my meeting with Riza. He nods with my tale of woe and gasps at learning of how Riza had fallen victim to a crushed spine and broken bones. When I explain the process of healing her, he looks completely amazed. He takes my place as an Aerugo survivor surprisingly well, refraining from any sensitive questions. I stray away from any events that brought a dreadful shivering to my legs. Hughes talks about his meeting with Gracia. The story is so gushingly cute that I have to constantly swallow down amused giggles and rising urges to tease the romantic. It's so bizarre, sitting here, listening to someone speak of his love life. For a moment I lie on the edge of jealousy. For someone to experience that beautiful stage of late night talks and hugs enveloping one another… For someone to _be able_ to do all that. I can't resist imagining my life staying on that path. But later my envy gives way to smiles and small chuckles. I think of how Naomi would freak out, hearing this sort of adorable passion from a soldier of a people. Naomi, thinking about it, would probably poke at me, whispering seriously, 'Take notes. This is important stuff, K'. Surprisingly her name doesn't bring the usual flash of pain. The thought of Naomi being here, talking to the two of us was actually almost comforting. Perhaps I was finally accepting what had happened. Maybe Naomi had forgiven me. Maybe she understood.

"Misaki, I've spoken to Lieutenant Hawkeye about you, and I hear that you're antsy to leave."

My laughter at a joke Hughes told falters. Already the fun and pointless subjects were done and dealt with. Sadly, I nod.

"As soon as I can, I'd like to go back out there."

Hughes smiles, his eyes softening.

"Back to the forest, you mean?"

"Yes."

He folds his palms together, beating it gently against his knee. I watch the hypnotic motion, realizing how weird his words sounded. Going back to the forest. Like I was some animal. Some crazy, unheard of fairytale of the lone girl who scoured the trees, surviving and just coping with everything. Tragic. A pitiful life to live.

"Misaki," Hughes calls, bring me to look at him now standing. He seems brighter, excited. "Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, why don't you come with me on a little outing?"

"Outing?"

"Yes, an outing- a trip if you will," he says enthusiastically. "Where we'll be going is a surprise, of course I'll be sure to check in with the Colonel and Lieutenant. What do you say?"

I grimace at the thought of needing permission to go somewhere, but the idea does pique my interest.

"Sure," I answer. "I'd like that very much."

"Wonderful! Same time tomorrow if that's alright?" he asks, beaming. His eagerness rubs off on me and I risk a pleased smile, saying that the timing was fine. I had nowhere important to go. He chuckles, passing a salute, and leaves the door with a lingering "Goodbye!"

To the closed door, I softly reply with my own, "bye…"

* * *

"Here. Drink some water."

Graciously, I accept the offered bottle from Riza's hand, quickly turning back to the toilet to lose the last of my attempted meal. As I said I would, a few hours after Hughes left I gave in to my rumbling stomach and downed a few crackers and sips of soup Riza brought. Almost immediately, I fled to the bathroom and became nauseas.

A shame. I really was starving.

"Sorry," I apologize, interrupted by a series of gags. Riza sits beside me, her back pressing against cabinets, looking ahead at the shower. Her uniform is halfway off. A black shirt with crossing belts along her back covers her torso. Her uniform pants remain on, her weapons sheathed safely. She had been in the middle of changing when she heard my horrible noises. Being who she was, she dropped her actions and went in to check on me. For several minutes I'd been like this. She'd never once left my side except for bringing in the water and napkins.

"There's no need to apologize," she says, passing me a napkin. I take it, roughly rubbing away at my numb mouth. My throat screams for moisture so I gulp down water. "Slow down. Take it easy."

With a nod, I cut down the speed, gasping and wiping away beads of sweat running down my neck. "No. I'm here wasting the good food you were nice enough to bring. Of course I'm going to apologize."

Riza gives a weak chuckle. "It's fine, really. I don't even like soup."

"Well I'm sure you don't like it _anymore_," I say, joining her laughter.

Despite being sick and crippled, feeling like absolute crap, hearing Riza laugh brought back a pleasant rush of memories from our talk in Ishval. And judging by her contemplating expression, she was remembering too. Remembering things that leaked a mystery.

"You're dying to ask me," I say weakly, thudding my head against the wall, watching her confirming attempt to avert my eyes.

"It's not in my place to force you to tell me anything," she says dismissively. She shakes away her obvious desire to know what the devil happened to me within an almost three year span. I can't blame her. Seeing me smiling and talk about my future. The light that lived in me. My blooming resistance to kill solely on the commands of leaders. Riza wants the connection from those days to now. Finding me bloody in the midst of nature. In her home territory. An Aerugonian. A surviving Aerugonian. The youthful light within me, extinguished.

What had happened? She wishes to know what broke me down to this wandering, lost girl.

"Right. It isn't."

We sit there quietly, reflecting, buzzed with invasions of 'what if'. My shoulder aches. The floor feels cold. Riza, mind reader, rises, offering a hand to lift me to my own feet.

"When you're ready, maybe," she hopes, patting my untouched shoulder. At her touch I frown. It's a friendly gesture and I'm not entirely certain I deserve it.

"Maybe," I echo, following her back into the living room and into bed.

For a second, I really do hope.

* * *

A Glimpse into the Future:

"Edward and Alphonse Elric."

"Brothers?"

"Apparently."

"Roy. They're only children."

"Yes. The dogs just get younger and younger."

"Human transmutation… The ultimate taboo."

Roy nods, keeping his eyes peeled to the road ahead. I sigh. My walls were already up. This couldn't faze me. I refuse for it to. This was why I asked to be brought after all. Practice. Practice building those defenses and keep out the dark. Don't live in the past. Misaki. I am Misaki.

"Okay?" Roy asks, sneaking a glimpse at my stiffening posture. I nod, watching a shape take form in the distance, dwelling in all this green. Endless fields. Hardly any buildings. The Fuhrer truly pursued for his State Alchemists. Or, more commonly known, dogs. Edward Elric. Alphonse Elric. Children. Our leader wanted children in the military.

Children who performed human transmutation.

"What are we doing, Roy?"

He chuckles in response.

"Don't you remember? Dogs don't question. They heel."

…

The first thing I notice are the eyes. Those _eyes_.

Dull. Dark. Dead.

Those eyes that saw the mutations of human and demon.

Eyes that only knew Truth.

Eyes that sought for lies.

Eyes that mirrored my own.

Edward Elric. The boy who made my mistake. Who committed my crime.

And his brother?

A large armored figure looming above his broken brother. Expressionless.

I can't.

I was wrong to believe I could handle this.

Roy is talking to an older woman. He's stating our reason. Offering a place in HQ. To _children_. To these…these _kids_. They've been recognized for talent. Rather than regarding their trauma, what they witnessed, that no one, surely not a _child_, surely not _two_, should _ever_ see, the military targets their skills. Newly acclaimed knowledge. Their usefulness.

And I'm part of it all.

I'm a tiny piece of this horrid goal.

The boy. He's missing an arm. Missing a leg. Missing his innocence.

I stalk out without a word, aware of Roy watching me. He doesn't follow. He and I are here for one purpose. He is set to carry out his orders. I won't stand for it. I won't.

A small mass collides into me.

"I'm sorry," a fragile voice squeaks, stumbling back. A girl. Another child. Hair of yellow, eyes of blue. She's been trying to eavesdrop. She must care for the boys. A friend? A sister? She carries no real resemblance. Must be a friend.

I smile. "It's alright," I say reassuringly, stepping past her, thinking better of it. "Say, I've never been here before. Care to show me around?"

She fidgets and I know she wants to continue listening. But she's aware of good manners and begins to say she will. But I change my mind.

"Or, we could wait together for them to finish, Miss…?"

Shyly, but with a look of appreciation, she answers "Winry."

"Winry," I repeat, loving the way it slides across my tongue. Such a pretty name. "Beautiful. My name is Misaki. How about we take a seat over here on the stairs? It's a lovely day for having a friendly conversation."

She's young, but clever. Understanding, she sits with me and we talk. And talk. And talk. We talk about her friends Edward and Al. We talk about the military. And we talk about the future.

We omit the past.


	9. Places to Call Home

When I wake up the next morning, I try breakfast with Riza and end up getting sick. Again.

"Misaki, are you sure I can't take you to see someone? Maybe even a private doctor?"

I shake my head violently, eyes watering at any attempt to keep my nausea down. Riza sits at the same spot as last night, holding back my hair. She's dressed in her work attire, ready to go ages before this blasted wave of wretchedness overcame me. With a gag, I try waving her off. Wasting her time, stealing her from her job, I couldn't bear it.

"Go on, I'm fine. No doctor," I say hoarsely, wincing as she tries pulling my hair into a tight bun.

"Misaki…" she mutters worriedly. When it's clear she doesn't intend to move until I had finished, I clench my abs, forcing down the sickness, and shakily cling to the wall.

"Riza. Your job. Go, I'll be alright."

Unhappily she obeys, making sure to pass me yet another bottle of water which I greedily drink. As soon as the front door clicks shut, I charge back to my spot on the couch and collapse. In a matter of seconds I pass out.

* * *

"_Drip. Drip. Drip._

_Raindrops keep falling on my head._

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

_Raindrops keep falling on my head."_

_ "__Naomi, please," I urged, swiping at her with a rolled up newspaper. "Hush. I'm trying to get this stupid thing."_

_ "__K, please. It's a spider. Grow up."_

_The rain hit the pavement with a soothing rhythm. Naomi and I were messing around outside, me sparring with dummies, she trying to convince me to attend some ridiculous meeting with the Princely geeks. As she squabbled on and on about the group, I had been laying some new techniques on the equipment, nearly screaming my lungs out as a huge, whopping tarantula made its way across the shoulders of one of them. Naomi, a fearless warrior when it comes to bugs, laughed for a bit and insisted the monster was just "a tiny spider", then went right onto her more 'important' tasks of getting me out of what she called the 'denial' stage. Denial of being in love with her prince._

_ "__Nao, please. It's a guy. Grow up."_

_She rolled her eyes, taking the rolled up weapon from my hands._

_ "__I love the fact that out of all these terrifyingly deadly weapons, you go straight for the newspaper," she chuckled, smacking the wet paper against her palm threateningly. I shrugged, enjoying her peevish response, blinking away droplets. _

_ "__I don't want that thing's guts all over my new toys," I responded as if it were the most obvious answer. Naomi sucked her teeth, raising the Sunday paper and bringing it down mercilessly upon the creature. I cringed at the sound of impact, glowering. "Hey! Ah, just great! Freaking Tarantula juices all over my fighting gear. Thanks Nao."_

_She wagged her finger annoyingly at me, hand on hip. "It's what you get for being a dude. Quite the dude you'd make, you pansy. And it's a _spider_, dumbo."_

_ "__Same difference."_

_ "__Not really, detective."_

_Groaning, I slumped over to the patio steps, taking a seat and pouting. Naomi, with a good flick to the head, plopped down beside me, watching the distant bolts of lightning._

_ "__Hey Nao," I said after some time._

_ "__Hmm."_

_ "__I want to be a knight."_

_She looked at me with a new found interest. Her previous objectives forgotten. "A _knight_? Are you _crazy_?" _

_I sighed, re-experiencing my mother's reaction. "What's so crazy about wanting to protect our homeland?"_

_ "__Uh, _everything_? Hello? Kaze? Are you still with me?" She reaches over, sinking a finger into my cheek provoking me to swipe her away. _

_ "__Stop. I'm really serious," I fume, focusing on the dim outline of the palace, consumed by the mist. "I've been wanting to be one for a while now."_

_ "__Kaze," Naomi said, running hands through her soaked hair. "You're fifteen. Fifteen year old girls should be running around chasing guys and picking out nice outfits and pulling pranks on defenseless pedestrians. Not wanting to join a group that goes out there and…fights. It's dangerous." Her tone pleaded for me to say I was joking. I shook my head, glancing at her with a fiery determination and a dull hurt from her opinion. _

_ "__That's the thing, Nao. It's out _there_. Wherever that is. Aren't you sick and tired of day after day of being in these same walls and doing the same stuff? I want to live. I want to see memorable sights! I want to do something for the people here."_

_ "__You want to kill."_

_I shook feverishly, standing up with the rising passion in my veins._

_ "__Defend. Spread a message. Meet new people. Nao," I turned to show her the proud smile on my lips. The fireworks dazzling in my gaze. My quickened breathing from the rising excitement. "I'm not in love with anyone right now, but I am in love with what I do. I'm in love with my training, my weapons, my boldness. I'm in love with the unknown. I live to know what's out there, Nao."_

_She watched me, noted the expression I exposed. Her eyes spelled fear and uncertainty. My friend behind the walls. Willing to make risks, but at a limit. The girl who has my back._

_ "__Well," she exhaled, standing to put an arm around me. "For an idiot, you certainly know how to dazzle someone with that distant shimmering in your eyes."_

_I chuckled, flicking back a string of hair tauntingly._

_ "__I try."_

_Ruffling my hair, she took off into the pouring rain, kicking and splashing at puddles. _

_ "__Come on miss knight in shining armor. We fight to the death!" she exclaimed, unsheathing an invisible sword. I laughed, combing back my hair and raising my own 'deadly sword'._

_ "__You're insane to think you'd win!" I shout, leaping out into the cool storm._

_ "__Yeah, well you're just insane!" she fired back, slashing at the air._

_The next day, we both caught a cold. And we didn't even care._

* * *

Noon. There's a knocking and hesitantly I blink the sleep from my eyes. There's an unpleasant weight on my eyelids and a dizzying spell overcoming my thoughts. Drunkenly I sit, listening to the pounding coming from outside the room.

Hughes. He was here to take me somewhere.

Sluggishly I greet him at the door, taking in his beaming face and the swift flicker of surprise. I must look terrible. I'm wearing a clean set of nightclothes. My hair blew into a chaotic fountain of wisps and knots. The hair tie had slid off during my toss and turns. I don't even have the energy to care.

"Morning, sleepyhead?" Hughes tosses out amusingly. I grunt in response, not awake enough to formulate proper sentences. He seems to get the idea, asking to be let in. I comply. Patiently he saunters to his spot in the loveseat, and waits.

Right. Pajamas.

I shuffle my way over to Riza's bedroom, picking out a plain attire with the reassurance of being blessed by her permission. Once I've slipped out of the bed clothes and into a simple blue t-shirt and jeans, I come back out to Hughes folding my mess of a blanket. Whoa. Manners to the extreme.

He takes in the baggy pants and the loose shirt with a secretive chuckle. Unconsciously I blush. Riza had mentioned the possibility of purchasing some new clothes for me which I declined in a heartbeat. I was still set on leaving, so having anything other than food purchased for me would be too much.

However it was pretty humiliating, the slight size difference. The general fact that I was the smaller one. I dream to achieve height and instead end up with a disappointing 5' 2. It was clear my growing period was over.

"Ready?"

With a weak grin, I nod, having him lead the way out into the hallway and back into the world I'd been missing.

* * *

Gracia was, how do I put this…well, she was an _angel_. A gorgeous, wonderful, sweet woman with a heart of gold. And a knack for cooking.

As soon as Hughes and I reached the door to their apartment, I knew there was something wonderful waiting for me. The interior of their home was glorious. Such a comfy, lovely place. Neat. Inviting. Smelling of the most heavenly apple pie in existence. And the taste was just as superb as the smell.

Gracia, after my polite attempts to call ma'am, laughed away the formality and insisted to be referred to by her first name. She even offered the choice to call her Gracie and I just knew that she was awesome.

She was a hugger. Definitely a hugger.

At the sight of my bandaged arm, her arms swept around me in such a ginger, graceful manner that I couldn't help but awkwardly bubble out the words: "thank you" when she withdrew. Hughes had chuckled then, reaching out to sweep, literally sweep, the girl off her feet. It was such a heartwarming sight, the couple smiling at one another and trying desperately to be the perfect hosts. I pleaded they act as they normally do, and don't mind my presence. Of course where I said "normal behavior", they gave each other a shy, sheepish look and erupted into a laughter which I found myself joining.

We had just finished lunch and I found, quite to my pleasant surprise, the food stayed peacefully in my stomach. Hughes led me to the main room, offering a seat. I took one, crossing my legs in a formal, professional manner. Gracia, noting my posture, comes over to sit directly across from me, sliding a warm cup of tea across the coffee table between us. She too crosses her legs to match mine. The gesture makes me smile and I take the cup, thanking her graciously, sipping daintily.

It came as a shock what time it was.

"Shoot, I really must be going," Hughes says disappointingly, glancing at the clock. "The boys are sure to talk my ear off for being late." In a brisk pace, he dashes to Gracia, pecking her on the cheek. I suppress a grin, suddenly wondering how I could have ever though negatively of the two. "Bye dearest." He turns to look at me, slowly realizing he had been my ride. With a sympathetic expression, he puts his hands together in mock prayer, closing his eyes tightly in deep concentration. "Would you please, please, please look after my darling, Misaki? I'll contact the Lieutenant and she'll come pick you up or I'll just drop you back at her place after work."

Gracia, with a soft giggle, made a shooing gesture, turning towards me. "Would that be alright with you, Misaki? I promise not to place any stress on you."

As if she were even capable of causing stress.

I find myself nodding vigorously, honored to stay in this fantasy of a home. With a thumbs up, Hughes rushes out the door and out to Central Command, leaving me and Gracia to drink our tea and casually enjoy each other's company.

"Misaki," she starts, setting her cup down with a gentle 'clink'. "Might I just say how incredibly sweet and beautiful you are. I've never come across a girl with such kind manners and etiquette."

I blush at the compliment, scratching the corner of my eye insecurely. "Ah, please. You're too kind," I say, simmering in the floods of flattery. "You're beautiful as well, Gracia. Hughes is an extremely lucky man."

I've said the right thing. Her face, although I thought it to be humanely impossible, brightens. A hand clasps to the side of her mouth and she shakes her head, saying how wonderful I was.

"The way you speak," she says after her melt down from my compliments. "It's almost as if you're a royal figure. It's really neat. If I may ask, are you from around here?"

The sincerity of her question lets me know Hughes hadn't updated her on my situation. The mentioning of royalty caused a slight twitch, but if she noticed she didn't show it. Fearing the way things would go if I told the truth, I take a leap of faith.

"Ah, well. I'm actually from out of the area," I answer, self-consciously pushing back fallen bangs. I hope she doesn't prod, and she doesn't.

"That's nice," she says. "I'm sure wherever you're from is a wonderful place. Seeing as how they raised a wonderful girl."

_Was_…but I flash a smile anyway.

"Indeed. The people were all practically family to me," I add, dimming my gaze into the empty pits of my cup. Gracia softens at the past tense I accidently used.

"Misaki, how is your injury? Have you been having proper treatment?" she asks, redirecting the topic. I give my shoulder a slight roll, wincing at its resistance, but grinning at the immense progress I was making. Before, moving it would have earned a cry of pain. It still hurt, but it was significantly better. Bearable.

"Yes," I reply, patting the spot for the heck of it. "It's actually gotten a lot better since I arrived."

"Good!" she beams, watching me stretch out the arm, awakening sleeping muscles.

"Yeah. I'm really indebted to Hughes. Your, ah…" I pause, wondering just where exactly in the relationship the two were.

"Husband," she answers.

"Husband," I repeat, relishing in the strong atmosphere of euphoria. "He basically saved my life."

Gracia nods, gazing dreamily past me and into another world. "Maes is the type of man who'd help anyone in need. Sometimes I wonder just how I lucky I was to be the one he chose." She blinks, remembering her place, reddening. "Ah, how rude of me, I'm sorry! Don't mind my chatter."

"No, no," I insist, thinking back on a memory. "It's understandable. I used think of the same things, myself."

Gracia smiles, taking in my words.

"…Used…?" she echoes. Her eyes widen at what she'd said. I'm already continuing without thinking.

"Yes. I-"

I stop, seeing where the conversation was leading. Gracia, worried, isn't sure what to say. Just what _was_ I going to say? I'd spoken without considering the road I'd be taking; back into history. Into the life of Fujiin.

"Yes," I breathe, mouth trembling. "Back then I had someone just as dear to me. He too would was always the type to put people before him, never refusing to aid when he could."

Gracia nods, cautiously returning to the conversation.

"I'm sure he was wonderful, too."

I meet her gaze, offering a grateful reaction.

_Yes. He was_.

I cough into my hand.

"Misaki?" Gracia calls.

"Yes?"

She suddenly appears older, wiser. "We've just met and hardly know each other, but I'd just like you to know," she says, reaching out to take my hand (the clean, not coughed into) in hers. Stunned, I don't move, sensing something major. "If you ever need a place to run to, a place to clear your head, maybe even satisfy that skinny belly of yours," she's interrupted by our mild chuckles. "You have a home to come to."

"A home?" I say, taking in her message.

"You're always welcome here."

A home. Welcome. Almost as if I were family. But that's absurd. They don't know me. They don't know anything about me. Yet here Gracia…

"Hughes and I would love for you to stay in the city."

Hughes wants me to stay? Stay in the city? Live amongst them, visit?

"T-Thank you," is all I can say.

I cough again.

Gracia smiles, standing up to collect our dishes. I watch her head to the kitchen. When she's left my sights and I hear the faucet, I lower my head into my hands.

Stay? They'd truly want a stranger like me to stay?

It's been, what, four or five days? That's it. Two of which I've been knocked out. Hughes and I spoke a couple of times. How on earth could he say he wanted me to stay in the city?

Coughing, I rub at my neck, trail fingers down to my shoulder, aching.

Riza said two weeks. Two weeks at least before I could depart. Then I could go back out there and into the outside world. I would be back to being just me. The lone traveler. Living forever.

But I don't want that.

I don't want to be alone.

I think of that moment I felt alive, bickering with the Colonel. My mind reels around the beautiful adrenaline. The opportunity just to yell and say ridiculous things with another human being. I remember the way he stared at me dumbstruck, arguing with a blossoming smile.

The relief I felt after seeing him, fires blazing, protecting me from Silia. The way he spoke normally, distracting me from the deliria and bringing my sanity back with his voice. His ways of discreetly hiding away news that would upset me. The bath tub. The real glimpse of his smile. His idiotic insults.

Riza back in Ishval. Her laughter. The way she sheltered me from the Colonel. Her silly rules. Precautions. All for my general safety. Her demands to not meet with my belongings in the sake of my mind. Sitting beside me as I grew sick. Her appreciation when I mended her back and legs.

Hughes showing me his pictures he carried everywhere. Checking up on me the other day. Taking me to meet Gracia. Offering a place for me to run to.

I haven't had a place to run to in years. Only places to run from.

"Misaki?"

Coughing. I was coughing, a lot. I didn't even notice how bad the fit was until I began to wheeze. Gracia was at my side in no time, patting my back.

"Misaki?" she says again, panic driven. I gag, feeling sick. My body pulsed. My mind bent. Before I knew it, Gracia had pulled my hand away, gasping. "Misaki, we need to get you to the hospital."

Blood. Dots of red peer up at me. I wheeze, struggling for breath. Ill. I was so very ill.

Gracia helps me to my feet, leading me towards the door. I shiver. Hospital. Needles. Inspection. No.

"No," I choke, collapsing to the ground. Gracia falls at my level, eyes wide. "No," I say again.

She doesn't like my answer, I see. But to my relief, she nods, prodding me back up and to the couch. Sick. So very, very sick.

"Gonna be…sick," I murmur, growing weak. Gracia sprints off then returns with a bin. As soon as the plastic hit against my skin, I went all out, feeling as if I were vomiting my organs.

"Misaki…" Gracia whispers, teary eyed. I stare, confused by her tears. Why was she crying? But another wave attacks and I have to dismiss the thought. Like Riza, she sits close, waiting. Worrying.

I don't know how long I'm like that, sick, vulnerable, and so terribly weak. It comes to my attention how lacking my body was of nutrients. How long I've gone without actual substances powering my system. There was nothing for me to rid of. Nothing but blood. Lots and lots of blood.

"Lt. Colonel Hughes please... Maes? Maes, it's Misaki. She's…"

Gracia called Hughes at some point apparently. I'm such a mess. Such a burden. They offer a home and here I was making a scene, worrying people. God, I didn't deserve such kindness. How dare I even consider staying?

"…alright. Ok. We'll wait. Thank you. Thank you. I love you too."

_Love_. She loves him. Just like I loved Ritzu. My dear, dear Ritzu. How could I ever forgive myself for what I did? How could I hope to stay and become someone Riza, Hughes, Gracia, and Roy would trust? Would like. Would love.

"Misaki? Riza's coming to get you. She'll take care of you," Gracia tries comforting me, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

She sobs and I'm left wondering why she's so sad.

I don't deserve her tears. I don't deserve her words.

I don't deserve to live.

* * *

"…please let me know if she get any better…

"Of course. Thank you for watching after her."

"She just seems like she's gone through so much…"

"Yes. She has. I'll take care of her from here. Thank you, Gracia."

Voices. Gracia and a male's.

Something slides under me.

"Bubbles? Are you awake? Try not to kill me, I'm only trying to take you home."

Home? Riza's you mean?

I wince, parting my lips. "That's…not my name…"

A chuckle.

"You look terrible and still you keep up with that attitude."

"Ba…stard."

Another chuckle.

Then darkness.

* * *

Dreamless sleep. It's a beautiful thing.

"You're awake."

I squint at the bright room, bringing myself up. The ground is soft. Springy. It's a bed. I'm in Riza's bed, staring at Riza, in uniform, sitting at the foot of the furniture.

Groggily, I ask how long I'd been out.

"A few hours," she answers. I groan, holding my pounding head in my hands.

"Feel like I was hit by a train," I mutter, blinking away black spots. Riza chuckles lightly.

"You look like it too."

That gets a laugh out of me. Though it sounds more like a dying hyena. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

I notice how light it is outside. Riza is here with me and not at work.

"What are you-?" I try asking.

"Took the rest of the day off," she answers quickly, narrowing her eyes. I want to protest. But she pushes my attempt away. "Please. I try finding ways to get out of that place. Let's just say you were my ticket."

She smiles but I don't feel any better.

"Did you… pick me up from the Hughes's…?" I ask, trying to search through distant voices. Riza, getting up to rummage through her drawers shakes no.

"That would be the Colonel," she replies, pulling out a new pair of nightclothes. At my repulsed expression, she scowls. "He was closer, going after a due report. Gracia called me and I contacted him. We met up in the middle and he made sure to put you in my care, knowing how… distrustful you were of him."

She sounds offended. The tension between the Colonel and I didn't settle well with her. I supposed that was reasonable, seeing as how close the two are.

Riza sets the clothes on my blanketed lap. "You can get cleaned up if you're up to it. Also, I don't mind if you'd like to sleep in here tonight. I'm fine with taking up the couch."

"Don't be ridiculous," I argue, struggling to get up. "I'm not going to barge in here and take away your bed like some house pet."

Riza sighs, reaching over to lightly pinch my shoulder. The pain hits instantly. With a yelp, I shrivel away, eyeing her incredulously. "What the heck?" I demand.

"You are not some house pet I'm keeping around for the fun of it," she snaps. Her eyes flare a dangerous warning and she takes a moment to calm down. More controlled, she continues, "I'm just worried. You've been through a lot. Rest."

"Why?" I hiss, raking fingers through my wild hair. "Why would you do this? Why are you helping me? Why are you-?"

My eyes burn. For once, I'm feeling the urge to cry. Here I was, in the comforts of people trying to get me back up on my feet, and I was fighting. I was sulking. Like some spoiled child.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Did they not hear Naomi in the woods? Did they not fully comprehend what I drove her to do? Or maybe Silia? How she screamed at Riza. She told her she had the wrong girl. I was the cold-blooded killer. Roy allowed her life to be stripped away. Why not mine? Why would he, they, bother dealing with a brat like me?

"Do you not realize what you're saying?" Riza speaks quietly. The weight on the bed shifts and she takes a spot beside me, sitting with her back pressed against the wall. She looks younger, tired. I stare at her. This is familiar. Side by side, a wound in my shoulder, her exhaustion. "Did I not say those same words?"

Right. Riza yelling at me as I unburied her from the rubble. Asking why I bothered to help her.

"That's different," I protest. "It was my fault you… ended up getting hurt."

"_Misaki_," she says sternly, giving a disbelieving glance. "How, exactly, was that building toppling over me _your_ fault?"

"I appeared as threat. I should have just…" I trail off, at a loss. Riza gives a dry laugh.

"Exactly. You came to my rescue and saw to it that I could walk again. If anything, I owed you a favor."

"You saved me from my attacker, wasn't that enough?" I retort, harsh. I really hated how cruel I sounded. Why was everything that came from my mouth angry? They did nothing wrong.

"You were living in a forest, Misaki. A dangerous place with fugitives, vicious creatures. How could I just suddenly find the girl who saved my life on the battlefield to get rid of a murderer and then leave?"

"I was fine."

"You were dead."

Riza's last statement pierced through me. She didn't mean literally. The way she said it, so obviously and abruptly. It hurt more than the hand that smashed my heart. It stung more than the cut on my shoulder. The overall _truth_ of it was like bullet to the chest.

"Don't think I don't remember speaking to the girl who I knew as Fujiin," she says. I flinch. "That's right. I know that was what you told me. Yet you insist on going through the name of Misaki."

There she went, punch after punch. Now I could be assured of her knowledge, her remarkable memory. The woman sits with her stirring questions. I lie, cowering, wanting only to sleep.

"I…"

I what? What did I want to say to the gunfire of words being shot at me? What did I feel was right to tell the sniper?

"Fujiin," she dares to say, watching with painfully curious eyes. "What happened to you?"

What happened to me? She wants to know what happened after I left? The home I came to. The one I loved, sweeping off my feet just as Hughes did with Gracia. Prince Claudio welcoming me with warm arms, taking in the damage and patching me up just as Riza was doing. Naomi insisting to celebrate with endless nights of partying when all I really desired was endless nights of being with Ritzu. Mama watching with a fogginess, aged with madness. Papa, his devoted love to the woman who used to be sane, wanting nothing more than to return to the good times of being family. Ritzu… his body. Decayed. Rotting.

No. No, that was not him. That thing was a monster. A horrible, horrible creature I created.

The tragic howls from within me.

The feel of blade sinking into flesh.

Riza wants to know that? Riza wants to hear about _that_?

Coldly, I stand and snatch the clothes.

"I'm going to take a shower. The bed is yours. Thank you."

I'm hoping she'll say nothing. She'll remain silent and secretly loathe and regret taking in this horrible, worthless being. But she's not cruel. She's still the girl of the past and she thinks there's a chance of saving my past as well.

"You made a friend three years ago. Whether you like it or not, I'm here. Some things shouldn't be taken on, alone."

I slam the door, catching the briefest: "Goodnight, Misaki."

As the water beats along my skin and I breathe in the smell of rain, I let the tears run down my face. Quietly.


	10. Visitor

Colonel Roy Mustang frowns at me, tapping away at the counter. _T-T-T-Tap_. _T-T-T-Tap_. It's frustrating. Irritating, really. The frequent noises. His stone hard stare. With a childish stubbornness, I glare right on back, challenging his reason for standing there, disturbing me. As if I needed anymore problems.

_Tap. Tap. T-T-T-Tap_.

What did this jerk want? Hadn't he had enough, catching me in the midst of humiliation? Burning me not once, but twice?

_Tap. T-Tap. T-T-T-Tap._

And could he stop with the annoying taps? Why was he _here_?

Riza clears her throat. The Colonel and I hardly pass her a glance, locked in each other's eyes. Non-romantically.

"I hate to interrupt your… intense conversation… but I'm going to ask one more time," Riza's voice speaks, seemingly distant. Roy barely blinks. I continue my demonstration of hostility. Riza sighs.

"Don't kill each other while I'm gone," she pleads, pocketing her keys and heading towards the door. My attention was finally drawn.

"Wait," I call out, breaking away from Roy's unchanging expression. "What? You're leaving me with _him_?" There's a detectable whininess in my tone, but it's beside the point. Me. Stuck with the flame alchemist? _Alone_? Could this be punishment from yesterday's scene? Was there any way I could just apologize and have this man kicked out, now?

But before I could drop to my knees and beg, the door slammed shut and it was official.

I was stuck in a tiny apartment with the Colonel.

_Tap. T-Tap. Tap. T-T-Tap_.

Back to the glaring war, then. His fingers kept on drumming. His mouth in an almost insulting scowl. My jaw twitches.

"Why, exactly, are you here?" I force through my teeth, wishing so very much to have my trusty sword with me. It's been four or five days, healing and bearing through this torture. A couple of times I went right back to my adventurous search for my things, only to no avail. Each time ending in a scolding from being caught red-handed in the act by Riza.

_Occasionally. The Colonel must be allowed to visit, occasionally_.

Mentally, I curse the Lieutenant. Had it been worth it? Concealing the wings in exchange for allowing the Colonel to visit? Can I change my mind?

_Tap. Tap. Tap_.

He didn't answer. He didn't even acknowledge my question, which really pissed me off.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Okay. He seriously needed to stop. Like right now. Before I rip his throat out.

_Tap. Tap. Tap. Ta-_

"WOULD YOU FREAKING STOP?" my voice raises and I break into a fitful cough, thankfully bringing his incessant tendency to hit my every nerve to a gradual halt. He lifts his hand to his tie, straightening it. The corner of his mouth quivers. Found this humorous did he? Or did he feel bad for my little display of fragility? And what was with the get up? Riza had left in a simple attire, and this clown was fumbling around in some kind of mutated tux or something. Did he ever go out looking, I don't know, _normal_?

Roy, now motionless, quirks a brow. Dumbly, I mirror him.

"Something on my face, Bubbles?"

Not this nonsense...

"That isn't my name, Colonel," I growl. He shrugs, walking past me in the loud 'clop' 'clop' of his shoes against kitchen tile. Everything about this guy screams attention. I had begun to think that when he first followed me, he actually _wanted_ me to turn around and say hi. Like some girl to fawn over him.

"How you doing these days?" he asks, leaning back and lacing his fingers together like some interviewer. Riza's couch, my spot, and he always seemed to choose it. That particular spot. Where I slept. Like he purposely tried contaminating wherever I was willing to relax. The one place I freaking rest my head and escape reality. He was sitting _there_. The nerve!

"Bub-"

"Don't you freaking dare," I snap before he can finish. Fearing I'd regret this moment sooner or later, I approach him, taking a seat on the furniture farthest away from him, which was still uncomfortably close. Roy stifles a smirk. I continue my glaring spree, thinking if I did it long enough, he'd catch on fire or something.

Oh _wait_.

"When did you last eat?" he asks.

"Last night," I answer.

"My bad, I meant to ask when the last time you have food in your system was," he says with a twinge of irritation.

"Last night," I answer again, balancing with his temper.

"You look awful," Roy rudely remarks. Gritting my teeth, I bite back a curse. Dead. Dead. Riza would come home to a bloody mess.

"And _you've_ looked better."

Roy sighs, putting chin to knuckles. His trademark pose. "You've lost color, not to mention, you've lost quite a bit of weight. Not that you had much to begin with."

A smart response had taken root in my brain until he mentioned the weight loss. Had I really lost that much? I mean, I suppose the few times I came across the bathroom mirror I saw an unusual number of bones sticking out. My veins stood out. My arms were like the branches of a scrawny tree. But it shouldn't come as a surprise. I hadn't eaten the past several days after all. More properly, I haven't _kept down_ anything.

With a grimace, I pat my empty stomach.

I'd been so distracted by self-degrading thoughts and endless pondering of my emotions, I never really noticed just how starved I was. And weak. My bones seemed brittle. My skin tight. The colors and shades in the room a bit… off. And I'd been becoming more paranoid about sudden movements in the corners of my vision.

So maybe I wasn't in the greatest condition. And maybe I was starting to hallucinate. Big whoop. Wasn't as if anyone should give a rat's bottom.

"I'm not exactly well suited for the city life," I say with slight agitation. Roy's eyes close in thought.

"Palace life, city life, are they complete opposites?" he questions, snaking his way around into my somber tale. Defensively I don't dare to respond. He reopens his gaze, reading my every aversion and silence as my answer. There is no getting to me. I am a puzzle difficult to solve. A voice programmed to quarrel.

"Providing aid, sentencing kill orders, are _they_ complete opposites?" I ask, responding to his grimace with a vicious snarl. "That's basically what you're asking."

Perhaps that was too far. Bringing up the Ishval event wouldn't do anything but rile up unreasonable tension. For someone like Roy, this was probably a cruel thing of me to say. I should take it back, I know I should. Just drop it already.

But I don't.

"In any case, I'd like to discuss about your heal-"

"How does it feel, Colonel? To be known as the _hero of Ishval_. The savior of your men. How does it feel to carry on that title?" My throat tightens and I don't seem able to stop the poison from leaking out. Roy stiffens. His complexion falls into chaos.

"How did it feel? Setting fire to their homes?" I say in a monotone, remembering the buildings aglow.

"Enough-"

"How did it feel, having your country's bullets dig into a woman's flesh? Having the children screaming for their parents that they refused to accept were dead?" I growl, hardening. Roy clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring. The mother of an infant appears before me, bullets colliding with her, leaving only her final request to protect her child to linger as a haunting memory. The girl who called me Wind Goddess, crying in the midst of the field. Her mother long gone, yet so close. The final vehicle, swallowed by the rage of the land.

"Sto-"

"How did it feel, watching your flames tear into the innocent's skin? Burning away lives, disposing them like pests. Doing just what your masters tell you to do, like some obedient pup. Tell me, how did it feel?" I'm almost yelling at this point. My legs tremble with the flood of emotions. I can't shut up. I've lost all reason. All I can feel is anger.

"STOP!" Roy shouts in a booming command. I smile twistedly.

"I want to know. I want to know what you think, now, about going through all of that…and being recognized as a _hero_."

Roy drops his hands. He pops his neck. Looks away.

"We're done with this subject," he mutters.

"No we're not," I argue, stunned by his cowardice. The man was running from the truth. He was avoiding his foul doing.

"Yes," Roy says darkly, "We are."

He was fleeing from the scene. Evading what he did.

Furiously, I jolt to my feet. In three quick strides, I'm in front of him. He gazes up at me, unmoving, doing as the girl in the forest did. He was rummaging through my files. Disturbing the contents. Invading my privacy. Before I knew what was happening, a loud 'slap' thickened the atmosphere.

The pent up rage evaporates, replaced with confusion. The confusion dissolves into shameful realization.

What was I doing? Ganging up on someone who ran from his wrongs. _Just_. _Like_. _Me_. What was I doing?

Why didn't he…dodge?

His cheek was a dull red. The strike didn't even move his lower body an inch, but his face had without a doubt, absorbed a great deal of my hit. Raw, jagged lines slid along his skin. My nails felt oddly numb. Little beads of blood seeped through.

Cut him. I had cut him on accident.

"Wh…" I choke, withdrawing my prickling hand. "Why didn't you… move?"

He says nothing, turning to face me. The motion scares me and I fumble my way back to my seat. I needed to sit. I felt incredibly dizzy.

I slapped him. God, I slapped him because of something in the _past_. The man I sat across from, enemy in the Ishval war, _let me hit him_. I had only gone for the attack because I knew he'd be capable of blocking off such a whimsy strike. Yet he took it. He accepted it like he deserved it.

Didn't he deserve it?

I lower my head, feeling sick.

He wasn't yelling or beating me down. He hadn't laid a single finger on me, other than perhaps the cauterizing incident. Not once did he ever intentionally harm me.

_Why_?

Roy took a deep breath.

"When I traveled through those woods, I came across a young child."

I shot up to attention, eyes widening.

"Her eyes were a brilliant blue, like glaciers. Her body shivered as if she were cold. I could practically hear her teeth chattering from where I was."

What was he…?

"I couldn't seem to get myself to move to her right away because that little girl, chilled to the bone, was standing in the midst of one of the _hottest_ days in Amestris."

Was this… his explanation for trusting me? Why _now_? Why would he…? Why would he just out of the blue… start talking about this? After what I'd said? After how I acted?

"I don't know how long I stood there, just staring. It was such a strange sight. I…I can't explain it, I found I didn't really… _want_ to approach her… Eventually I realized I was just standing there, cowering, and feeling, I actually _felt_, her frigidness passing on towards me. I was, quite frankly, _terrified_ of the girl. Me, a grown man, terrified by the possibility of catching the winter that tagged her."

He was really into his retelling. I couldn't form a coherent thought. My mind spun with bewilderment. Roy didn't seem to care. The now pink area on his face was nothing in comparison to his sudden river of words, flowing a straight current, pulling me along with it.

"There was something, strange. Something… peculiar about that girl, and I just couldn't think straight. At one side I was thinking: help the poor thing. At the other: I… I mean it's going to sound either ridiculous or downright terrible. But I was…"

He took that moment to push back his hair. Stared up at the ceiling with a simmering sadness.

"I was so afraid that if I set foot near her, I would become just like…like…"

_Her_. He was terrified to become like the girl, abandoned, lost, eternally cold. Possibly searching for death. Witnessing people who would cross paths then flee with an unexplainable terror. A terror of catching somberness like it were some disease. He was afraid of having to submit to the cold.

Just as I was.

And in that moment, I was swept away by his voice. I tuned to his melody. My ears resonated with each and every string of verses. Earlier outbursts had blown away. Dates other than the one he described disappeared into dust. All that mattered was his song. His symphony of truth. Nothing else.

"At the time, I thought I was being completely logical. I truly believed that child would be the death of me if I came to her aid. As for now…"

His shoulders slumped. His irises dulled. I listened closely.

"Now, I'm thinking how awful it was of me. She was only a child and yet I couldn't even bring myself to get over that foolish fear to do anything. It was as though the flame in me had just… vanished."

_An extinguished flame_.

I think back to when he saved me from Silia. How captivated I was by his fiery gaze. How amazed I was by the differences. One fire started by rage. Another ignited by…passion? Determination?

Either way, it was… spectacular. It would forever haunt me, those eyes, for I was supposed to fear the flames. Fire blazed as destruction in my heart. Fire would cut away my ability to fly. Roy had been the first to pass on the feeling of awe. Fascination with the deadliest element.

And ironic enough, he was also the first to trigger my continuing angst.

"Call me a creep all you want, Bubbles…"

He stopped to laugh without any cheeriness. I didn't bother snapping at his tease.

"But I couldn't seem to prevent myself from watching her. I saw her limping around, head low, eyes sunken. All the while, dreading her. But it was that _dread_ that pushed me to keep with her. It was this itching uncertainty, a pestering curiosity that gnawed at the back of my mind. So I kept in the shadows and observed. The entire time. Only seeing her struggle. Like some twisted version of hide and seek."

_Hide and seek_?

An extraordinary way of distinguishing the occasion…

Could a force sincerely propel one to go after a child while also ensuring a "safe" distance?

It all insinuates…utter madness.

"Part of me hoped she would find me. Then maybe I'd have no choice but to go up to her because how could anyone consider leaving the girl, knowing she was aware of your presence?"

A memory of Naomi, sobbing, screaming my name. Pleading for me to stop. Crying for me to come back.

Asking who I was.

I swallowed, continuing to listen.

"But she never turned around. She only walked. To where, I couldn't say for sure. I hardly imagine she ever had a set place in mind. No home to run to."

At that, he passed a mindful glance at me and I knew he had spoken with Hughes. Did he support the circumstances of me staying?

No, no. No consideration. No consideration on my part. Let it go. Forgot of it.

"And so I went on watching."

Watching the girl. Not bothering to help her. Following her weak, fragile state, cowering at the idea of catching her "germs". The Colonel wanted to do something. I had to acknowledge that. But to hear him say all these things, it was awful. Perhaps if I hadn't actually met the child, I'd see to this as unforgivable. But I _did_ run into her. I _did_ make contact. And so, I cannot bring myself to despise Roy for what he didn't do. I cannot blame him for feelings that I too experienced.

His knuckles whitened. The memories were eating at him. He really regretted his choices. He was repulsed by the terror he submitted to. And for the tiniest of seconds;

I sympathized with him.

I appreciated his compassion. It was rare to come across legitimate courteousness. Seeing the Colonel straining over what had been done and over with… it shifted my understanding of him. Made him appear… more trustworthy.

During my nimble point of clarity, I almost didn't register the unforeseen relaxation in his frame. The easing of his features. His lips undertook a slight curl at the ends. His lids drooped in delightful remembrance.

I tilted my head curiously, entranced by this new expression. He didn't look directly at me, but he might as well have. With a hesitant swallow, he spoke clearly:

"_And then you showed up_."

My stomach does an unpleasant flutter and I have the irrational fear of losing ground.

"You emerged from practically the middle of nowhere, holding a pack, wearing a cloak, going slow-like. Almost at the same pace as the girl. The same pattern of shuffling your way forward. The same lost expression. The same burdensome aura. So much of you related to her. And for a moment, I thought that you _were_ in fact, the girl. A futuristic version."

_Me, a copy of the girl of white?_

"And for a moment, I was terrified of you too."

_Terrified of me?_

It's nothing new. I've encountered so many who've yelled my name with a twinge of terror. I ran from those with racing heartbeats and trembling knees. Those who collapsed and begged at my feet to be spared, never bothering to hear my own mournful apologies, my own begging for forgiveness.

So it was only to be expected, experiencing this again. For some reason, however, hearing that I had struck fear in _Roy_… It distressed me. It inflicted more pain. It hurt to learn that he had been frightened by my appearance. It crushed me to learn I had repelled him.

_Why_?

Roy watched my tensed body. Took in my guarded face.

"I took another look at your figure. I peered as deeply as I could manage from that distance, into your eyes, and then my ideas of you being a threat, a ghostly demon come to possess me," he paused to snap his fingers. "Gone."

Unthinkingly, I wince at 'demon' and 'possess'. He's trying to joke, but it's a horrible attempt. Being associated with things like that, even jokingly, didn't go well with my self-esteem. If anything, it made me feel worse as a person.

"The first thing I noted was that you had the eyes…of a killer."

_Killer. Murderer. Aerugo massacre_.

"I'd recognize that look anywhere. After all, I have the exact same eyes."

I'm remembering when I saw the Colonel, unleashing his flames, his eyes flashing a glint of what I refused to identify as murderous intent. The eyes of a killer.

Did he mean to say… he and I were alike? Absurd.

"Don't deny you didn't notice."

He sounds on edge, accusing. He knew I saw his other personality. His darker shadow, looming over him wherever he went. Like a leech, it drained the innocence from his eyes.

It drained from mine too.

"It was clear to me you had killed. It was clear to me that you had killed, not once, but several times."

I cursed myself for carelessly flinching at his certainty.

"You had an emptier gaze. One could have fallen forever in those dark orbs. And because of that, I almost led myself to accept that your humanity was long gone."

Humanity… gone.

My fingers tightened into fists. My lips quivered. My eyes burned.

He was basically saying I was a monster. I'd lost the ability to love. I'd surrendered the willingness to live. I only continued existing to be devoured by my "demons".

Why did he have to cut in so deep? Badgering me with things I've already come to terms with. Reminding me of the terrors I'd unleashed. Perhaps it's reasonable. Perhaps with my horrible, dagger like thrusts of insults, the least I could take were these minor inflictions. He had every right to saying this. Didn't mean I wanted to hear it all again. It tore at my spirit. Brought me lower than I'd ever felt. Made me doubt ever being normal. Made me come to wondering, once again, if I ever was actually a human.

It…hurt…so much…

"But…"

My stomach churned. Roy intensified his stare. His eyes were alight again, and I didn't cringe away. I took in the warmth without fear of being burned. A burst of hope lived on that word.

"But for the briefest moment, I saw it."

"Saw what?" I asked, desiring to know. Mesmerized by his eyes, so _alive_. The eyes of a killer. So awake. So aware.

_And_ _smiling_.

"A flame."

_Flame_.

_A flame within me_.

"A flame that was so dim. Almost about to die out. A flame that was struggling to stay lit and keep you going."

_There was a flame still flickering inside_.

"It was small, barely burning. But it was _something_. It was _life_. You had life living in you still, and it was…"

He trailed off, gazing further into me. Farther than anyone had even cared to see.

I held my breath. Leaned forward.

"It was

_beautiful_."

There was a startling pounding in my chest.

The way he said it wasn't flirtatious or teasing or a jest.

It was strong. Confident. _Knowing_. _Real_.

_Beautiful_.

"Such a beautiful fire survived within you, endangered. When I looked, really looked, I saw the weight piled upon your shoulders. That sliver of light showed me the restless emotions, the regrets you have, the fears you endured, the lives you lost. It told me that you were so close to breaking, so close to giving up. You really were on the boundaries of fading into that blizzard the girl carried."

He didn't say the lives I took. He said the lives I'd _lost_. As if _I_ were a victim. As if _I_ wasn't some psychotic killer.

_Why_?

"I…was afraid for something else, then."

He suddenly looked uncomfortable, his expression loosening. I waited.

"I was afraid of… losing you."

I nearly fell off the chair, clutching at my restless chest.

_What?_

_ Losing me?_

_ How could he lose me when he never had me to begin with?_

_ Who was he to fear losing a stranger?_

_ Especially me?_

"I knew there was something about you that, I mean… You have potential. I could see that. You had this great…This… Geez it's hard to explain. I'm not trying to come onto you or anything. But you just… had this…this…"

Roy grew frustrated with himself, pushing back his bangs. His composed self was slipping away. His shoulders going rigid with irritation.

I hated that it made me want to smile. I want to smile. But I don't.

"The flame inside you was something that I… wanted to see…at its brightest."

My cheeks went a blaze. My head pulsing a funny rhythm. My heart did horrifying jumps. What…What _nonsense_ was he spewing?

"I didn't know you and yet I just…" He rubbed a hand along his forehead, getting worked up. "I couldn't stand the thought you turning into…_her_."

The girl. He was terrified I'd end up like the girl.

Why? Why was he saying such idiotic things? And why did my heart feel like a time bomb, ready to explode?

"I saw that you noticed the girl. And she noticed you. When she started walking to you and you didn't run away, I nearly… I nearly interfered. I had this weird thought that once she got close enough, you'd be… well you'd be gone."

_Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Th-Thump_.

Like Roy's endless drumming. The tapping of his fingers on the counter. It dwelled in my heart. Annoying. I couldn't stop it. It kept beating on its own accord.

"But of course, right when I was going to get in the middle of everything, I was frozen with that irritating, illogical fear. I stayed back and watched. I seriously believed that you were done for. I don't know what led me to believe such a bizarre thing, but I really thought you would be revert to that girl's fate."

_Th-Th-Thump_.

"The child spoke to you. I couldn't hear what she said from where I was. But I'm certain you answered."

_Who are you?_

_I used to know._

"She said something else and then you took out your pack. You rummaged for something and pulled out a jacket. I was so drawn to the two of you, watching you swing over the jacket onto her trembling body, zipping her up tight. Despite the heat, you were giving her a _jacket_. I almost wondered if you were the child's mother."

_I'm cold_.

"When she rest her head on you, I was ready to leave. I didn't want to see that flame flicker out. I didn't want to witness you fade away. But before I could gather the nerve to go back to the office, I sensed…"

Roy looked intrigued. He looked dumbstruck. He shook his head as if willing away the impossible. I blinked impatiently.

"_I could feel that flame flare in response_."

Flare? He could feel it growing stronger? Shouldn't he have said something like it weakening? Extinguishing?

Why was I acting as if this were all true? Roy fearing to lose me? Roy seeing fire in my eyes? Sensing it? Would even a lunatic find this conversation sane?

"You were speaking to her, even though she had left. You took off your cloak, buttoned her up, and the fire just…

Exploded."

Roy stared at me incredulously. I tightened my grip on my cloth, terrified my heart would come bursting out at the rate it galloped.

"You took all the winter from the girl and turned it…into summer…"

_What_?

_Thump. Th-Thump. Th-Thump_.

What was he saying? Nothing made sense. Ridiculous. Ludicrous. Outrageous. Laughable. Nonsensical. Everything he said was… It was…

_Beautiful_.

"That's why when you left, I took back the cloak."

The quizzical leer had dissolved. The mature stature returned. He looked calm; composed. I, on the other hand, was far from peace.

"What do you mean?" I asked, heart racing, palms sweating. Roy gazed at me with black orbs, brimming with mystery. I suddenly realize how much I want to learn about him. How much I'd like to discover about his own past. Tell me what those pools of experience have seen.

"Your flame burned so brightly, I was afraid of the attention it would bring. I wanted to give you the cloak in order to mask it. I wanted it…all to myself."

…no words to say to that.

…no way to make sense of this

…no urges to yell, cry, or laugh

Nothing.

I don't feel anything.

This guy was…

_Unreal_.

"I'm sorry."

My shoulder throbs as I raise up to note his sullen gaze. He's looking at my thigh again, and I'm remembering the attire Riza gave back to me before he arrived. Washed and whenever sitting, short. It slides up to mid-thigh, and there it is. The burn. The mark he made.

I briskly cover it with my hands, but he's already seen.

"I understand you being unforgiving. I deserve that much. No, I deserve far worse," he says, never peeling his gaze away from the dark marks, itching under the strength of his apologetic stare. "There hasn't been a day where I don't remind myself of that event. I gave you a reminding scar."

He pauses, closing his eyes.

"I only have the scars in my memories." His hand traces the sealed scratches. I gulp a storm of guilt.

He opens his eyes again.

"I'm truly sorry."

My mind implodes.

_Why_?

Why are you doing this to me?

It's not fair.

It's not fair that you make me feel like this.

It's not fair that you make me regret those words.

It's not fair that you called me beautiful.

It's not fair that you didn't want to lose me.

It's not fair that you saved me.

It's not fair that Riza and I reunited.

It's not fair that Naomi died.

It's not fair that Papa and Mama died.

It's not fair that you don't know all of this.

It's not fair that you don't know my cruelty.

It's not fair that you note a beauty I never saw.

It's not fair that you make me actually feel like you care.

It's not fair that you confuse me.

It's not fair.

I don't deserve your words.

I don't deserve your kindness.

It's not fair for you.

_It's not fair for me_.

_You_ are the _worthy opponent_.

We are the _unlikeliest of friends_.

Our _questions_ demand to be answered.

The _complications_ are enough to drive me insane.

_Reunion_. Turmoil.

_Misaki_. Reborn.

I must _cut the ties_. Sever the attachments.

I can't have a _place to call home_.

This _visitor_…must leave.

"Leave…" I whisper.

Roy looks pained. He stands. Tries to speak.

"Please… just go."

"I never wanted t-"

"Please!" I yell, tossing a devastated expression.

He looks shocked. He nods. He walks past me. Opens the door.

"I'm no hero. I never thought I was."

Shuts it gently.

At the sound of its faint 'click', I pull up my legs, wrapping them with my arms.

There is no one. I'm alone.

"I'm not a hero, either," I say to myself.

I break.


	11. Training to Forget

_The stench. Revolting. So horribly, horribly disgusting._

_ "…__N…No…"_

_The chalked hands trembled. The scraped knees buckled. The tear stained face twitched._

_ "…__N…No…No…No…"_

_The shadow moved, no writhed. It shuddered and tumbled. It gasped and bled. The fingers, no claws, reached out. Teeth, no fangs, snapped. Speaking. The monster spoke. _

_ "__F…u…j…i…i…n."_

_Spasms pushed it forward to the trembling girl. Black oozed from opened flesh. It drizzled along cracking bones. Intestines gurgled cries of the undead. Black eyes blinked. Blood poured down as did the monster's dying question._

_ "__W…h…y…?"_

_The girl dug nails into her scalp. The girl tore at her hair. The girl tried to make sense of what that was. Where she was. Who she was._

_And Truth granted her a departing gift._

_Truth offered one last glimpse…of Truth itself._

_ "__K…i…l…l… m…e…"_

_The girl opened her eyes one final time and saw what she had done._

_ "__E..eh…EHHHHHHHHYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"_

_She saw what I had done. She remembered she was me. I remembered who I'd brought back. Who I'd summoned back to the land of the living in disfigured pieces._

_ "__RITZUUUUUUUUU!" _

_I screamed and screamed until I had no voice. I punched the floor repeatedly until my knuckles had chipped down to a raw red. I kicked and threw and shattered anything that I could get my hands on._

_I gradually started to fade._

_I gradually started to approach his organs._

_Tears blurred his mangled outline. Delirium threatened to settle in._

_Madness possessed my thoughts._

_A heart, his heart, was in my grasp. Beating. _

_I sobbed. I held it to my chest, willing it merge with my own._

_It wasn't until it stopped that I heard Truth laughing maniacally._

_Truth laughing over the sound of a heart being splattered._

_Over and over and over._

* * *

_Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng_.

I fell to the floor, gasping, too lost in the grips of the nightmare to distinguish the shoulder I had landed on. I fought for air, feeling the carpet beneath me, breaking away from hell and back into reality. Riza's. Yes, I was in Riza's place. It is not the palace. This is not the dungeons. I am in Amestris. I fell asleep.

_Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng_.

My hand went up to my face, pulling away wet.

_Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng_.

Telephone. The telephone was ringing. Riza hadn't returned yet, meaning I was the only one here to answer it.

Shakily, I use the table as guidance in getting up. Tremors travel up and down my entire body. My fingers constantly twitch. I couldn't rid of those god awful screams. _My_ god awful screams. And the following laughter…

_Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng_.

Someone. I needed to hear someone speak, other than myself. I needed someone to be here. Wasn't the Colonel-?

…Right…I drove him off.

_Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrrrrrng. Brrrrr-_

"H-Hello?" I try, unfamiliar with the device in my hands. The shakes are getting worse. They pass into my throat and distort my voice. Despite knowing it was only a dream, my mind is experiencing a major freak out. I have the urge to break something. The room is so small. I needed space to spread out my wings. Where was Riza? Where was-

"Misaki?"

I nearly pass out with relief. _Gracia_. Gracia was talking to me. And dimly in the background I could hear another, male, voice. I could distinguish a hearty "hi!" from Maes Hughes. The Hughes. Their lovely voices erased my fears. The room seemed cozier.

"Gracia…" I sigh, not even trying to conceal the pure comfort she blessed me with. I collapse to the ground, tugging on the cord. It wraps securely around my fingers. I squeeze it in fear that we'd lose connection. It was a plastic object and wires that I placed my absolute faith in keeping me together. The thought wasn't entirely reassuring.

"Misaki? Are you alright? How are you feeling today? Did you eat? Did you get home alright? Is someone there with you? Sweetie, do you need anything?" Gracia unleashes a whirl of questions, throwing me off guard. I think back to when she was crying at her helplessness when I grew sick. How I eyed her with wonderment. I still couldn't understand why she would go so far as to grieve over my condition. Like it had been _her_ fault. "Misaki? Are you still there?"

"Ah!" I exclaim, nodding my head then cursing myself for my stupidity. Telephone. Can't see face to face. Duh. "Y-Yes, I'm fine. Uh… I'm feeling much better, I'm so sorry about yesterday's mess."

"There is no reason for you to apologize!" Gracia cuts in, causing me to jump at her abrupt scolding. "You were just feeling ill! You couldn't control that!"

In the background Hughes mutters something I can't make out. Gracia, letting out a startled "oh!" went back to the phone and sheepishly apologized for her loudness.

"Ah…no it's not a problem, really. And thank you. I mean for… well taking care of me and such," I respond shyly.

"Hmm?" Gracia lets out, sounding suddenly worried. "Misaki? Are you sure you're alright? You sound…nervous?"

She must have noted the lingering quivers in my speech. The woman is sharp as a tack.

Chuckling, I twiddle with the cord in my lap. "Well…" I'm tempted to just go with the original lie and begin my quest of avoiding sleep forever, but then again, I wanted very much to see the Hughes. Of course that would completely ruin the strategy of keeping distant and unattached. No, I need to tell her I'm perfectly fine.

Just as I open my mouth, I recall the heart beating in my palm and shiver. My words get caught. I can't speak. Gracia, tired of waiting, goes ahead to answer for me.

"Maes and I are coming to pay you a visit. We'll be there as soon as we can. Sit tight!"

"W-Wait!" I protest, shooting up to my feet and wincing as the platform where the phone usually rested collided with the top of my head. I rub the stinging area, seeing spots. "Please don't trouble yourselves!"

"Don't be ridiculous," another voice takes over, warm. Maes. "Never once during the time you've been here, have you been anything less than pleasant. Don't worry about Riza. She'll be fine with it. Catch you in a bit, doll."

The phone clicked dead before I could add anything.

Putting it back in place, I slump to the floor, trying to make sense of what had happened.

* * *

A bouquet of roses greets me at the door. The powerful aroma hits me at full throttle and I hold the knob in preparation for my mind to burst. Behind the massive gift, black hair bends down to the snippets of brown I could see between the plant's stems. With some difficulty, the flowers move and I stand before Maes, beaming brightly as ever, and Gracia, her eyes sparkling at the living sight of me.

"Ah…h-hi-" I timidly try to speak, but am interrupted by the frail, delicate arms of Gracia engulfing me. Stunned, I stumble a few feet back but recover and gradually put my own arms around her. Watching the two of us hugging, Maes looks almost left out, holding to the ginormous array of flowers. As for me, I'm not entirely sure what to make of this dramatic reunion. We'd seen each other just the other day. But Gracia's way of saying hello certainly didn't bother me.

After some time, she lets go.

"Misaki! I'm so sorry! The train was behind schedule and the man simply wouldn't hear of anything I had to say! Honestly, so what if it's raining?! That shouldn't keep anyone from getting to where they need to be on time!" Gracia goes off ranting, throwing her hands about in a furious manner, nearly hitting Maes in the attempt. Not sure what to do, I only nod frantically, every once in a while passing Maes a look of confusion. Of course Gracia being upset was perhaps the most adorable thing ever, but it was still a display of frustration over arriving here in twenty minutes rather than fifteen, and I had no idea how to handle it. Maes, however, went right on the job.

"Honey," he coos, gently putting away the vase out of the knock over range. "You know I love it when you make that cute little face of yours, but…"

Maes didn't seem able to finish when Gracia turned to pass a scrunched up scowl spelling frustration. Instead, a ditzy expression spread across his lips and he made a sound somewhere between a squawk and a chirp, trapping her in a bear trap of a hug and twirling her around madly. Gracia, practically the same speed as her husband, matched his energetic response, and gleefully laughed along with him, all the negativity vanquished. Meanwhile I just sort of…awkwardly smiled and wondered how on earth two people could be this perfect for one another.

When the moment was over and the couple made for a more intimate embrace, I chose the opportunity to clear my throat loudly. Sheepishly, they remember their place, parting and offering me their undivided attention.

"Sorry," Gracia says.

"I couldn't resist her adorable face," Maes adds.

They give each other a loving look and I shyly find myself playing with my hair. When I notice what I'm doing, I toss a hanging strand away violently and swallow down embarrassment. In the presence of these two lovebirds, I could never seem to maintain my cool.

"It's fine," I finally say, drawing my gaze over to the monstrous size of roses they brought. "Really, as I said before, you didn't have to go through all the trouble…"

Gracia laughs, an angelic sound that rings throughout the apartment. "Nonsense," she says, taking my hand and leading me to the sofa where I had folded the blankets after hearing of expected company. She insists I sit with her and I do. Maes, close behind, chooses a spot on the other side of her. I notice how they seem to automatically link fingers. Looking down, I also see Gracia has kept her hand wrapped around mine. Not know why exactly, I find the sight to be flattering. It felt as though a bit of her goodliness was passing on to me, pushing away the dark.

"Now," Gracia addresses, tightening her grip in a comforting way. "When we were on the phone, I remember hearing something wavering in your voice."

She smiles kindly, patting my knuckles. Maes listens respectively.

"It's ok to speak your mind. And it's ok to keep it to yourself. But Misaki," she continues, pausing to note whether she was going too far. I blink unresponsively. "Are you…Are you really alright? Did something…frighten you?"

The accuracy of her worries makes it difficult to reply. A glimpse of the nightmare strips away some of the contentment I held for the Hughes and I lose my smile. Maes, quick to take in every detail, focuses his stare on me. Gracia continues to hold my hand.

"Yeah," I admit to my own surprise. "A nightmare. Really bad one, I guess."

Gracia deepens her gaze, appearing genuinely apologetic. Maes jolts to his feet, walking over to the vase to pluck out a single rose. In a couple of steps he stands in front of me, holding the flower out for me to take it. Daintily, I accept the generous offering and turn to catch Gracia observing the thinness of my wrist.

"Well, we're no experts on slaying nightmares," Maes says with a tone of disappointment. "But we do know how to make it easier to forget!"

"Umm…" I say, blinking uncertainly at Gracia who had torn away her saddened gaze from my noticeable weight loss. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"We're the Hughes," she says with a shrug. The brightness in her spirit seems to flare. "Being the weird folk we are, we will not rest until you've forgotten every single detail of that horrid dream."

"That's right," Maes agrees, taking off his glasses to wipe them clean of dust. "You'll have that nightmare replaced with this one."

Nervously, I rub the stem of the rose in my hand, eyeing Maes' face with a mixture of awe (seeing him without glasses on) and pure terror (replace nightmares?).

"Wh…What do you plan on doing?" I say with a weak chuckle, looking to Gracia for an explanation. She has on that pretty smile, squeezing my hand.

"That's the beauty of it. Not knowing what we have in store for you," she sings mischievously.

"You'll forget soon," Maes adds.

Suddenly, I'm wondering if I should just stick with the original nightmare.

"Ah…You know, I'm actually feeling a lot better," I lie, holding the rose closer. The Hughes pass each other one of their looks before breaking into laughter. Gracia releases me to make a grab for my upper arm. Maes, following example, takes my other one, making sure not to place any strain on my shoulder. This feels strangely like a kidnapping, but I'm clueless as ever so I simply comply.

"The usual place?" Gracia asks her husband. I glance between the two, struggling for words. Maes gives an approving nod.

"The usual place," he confirms.

In a careful yet forceful manner, they lift me to my feet and walk me to the front door. My legs, just as lost as the rest of me, obediently keep up at their pace and I'm out in the hallway, glancing back at the door they made sure to lock. It dawns on me the lack of keys on our pockets, the spare Riza had made sure to point out to me lying safely on the side table next to where I slept.

"Key…" I say stupidly, feeling tired. From both sides Gracia and Maes look at me then smile simultaneously.

"Whoops," they say at the same time. I start to figure out just how scarily alike they are. Almost supernaturally in sync.

We go back to walking, their grips slackening slightly, still strong enough to prevent escape. Sighing, I decide to just go with it. It wasn't as if I was supposed to be anywhere anyways. Being in Riza's was beginning to get a bit tiring. This would be my second time seeing the city?

A couple of other inhabitants of the apartment go by us, bidding good afternoon. They can clearly see the restraints being forced upon me, yet they _smile_ and act as if being held down was normal. What they don't take in as normal is the ghostly impression I make with my pale skin and bone thin figure. It's considered rude to point this out, so they retain polite self-control and refrain from firing sensitive questions. I should be thankful, but with the obvious stares, they may as well have.

"Where's the usual place?" I ask after we step into an elevator, eager to have something to distract me from this tight, confined space. Gracia thinks before coming with a vague answer.

"It's big, private, and green."

Quite the information to go off on. With a frown I cast a hopeful approach with Maes. He only shrugs and says Gracia basically said it all.

Great. A secret destination that's apparently big and private and green. Whatever that means.

The elevator closes and lurches. The sensation of being crushed overwhelms me and I exhale a wave of queasiness. Gracia notices my expression, being sure to ask for a cup of water at the front desk before we head out into the outdoors.

Rain. Just as Gracia said, it was raining. Actual rain, hitting my gawking face and dripping down my arms which were freed from the Hughes. Turning to look at the two, I see they'd joined hands again and were watching me humorously, gazing wide eyed at them in the middle of a sprinkle. They didn't pull out an umbrella like most of the pedestrians did. Instead they nod in the direction of the train station, waiting for me to join alongside them down the slick pavement.

Cars drive on the streets and much like yesterday, I watch them with fascination. The smell of exhaust is sort of soothing and I take in the low rumbles with a comforting hum. Despite having vehicles back in Aerugo, there were never any that matched some of the fancy paintjobs such as these. People of all different clothes, sizes, and moods travel along the sidewalks. Most mannerly. Some downright rude.

Buildings surround the whole area, a few frighteningly huge. Hard to believe most of these are businesses. Being a child of the markets, seeing actual roofs over people selling produce and such was amazing. So amazing that I fail miserably at hiding my shock, just as I had yesterday with Maes along. Gracia watches me curiously. Our gazes meet and I brush away imaginary flies off my reddening cheek. Maes, already having gone through this, laughs.

"Still find the city life crazy, huh?" he says, swinging the arm that connected with Gracia. I nod, smiling at Gracia. She has a thoughtful look, pondering where I could be from. That's right. Maes, Riza, and Roy were the only ones who knew where I originated. Would it be so horrible for Gracia to also know?

"We'll need to take you to this insane pho house," Maes speaks, shaking me away from my temptation to let Gracia know more about who she was dealing with. What he said was bizarre and has me bubbling with questions.

"Fuh…House?" I repeat, peaking a brow quizzically. Gracia laughs at my pronunciation, instantly knowing I'd misspelled the word in my mind.

"Pho," she says, brushing back wet wisps of her short hair. "P-h-o. It's a noodle house."

Perplexed, I go into overdrive, processing what in the world she was talking about. "A house of noodles?" I ask feeling ridiculous. Why would someone have a house of noodles? That was just silly.

"It's not exactly a house, like where people live," Gracia continues for me, giggling at Maes leaning towards her to peck her on the cheek. "It's a restaurant."

Oh. Well, that's still retarded. But I nod anyways to show I understood.

It began to rain harder. The Hughes ask if I want an umbrella and I shake furiously, enjoying the feel of water on my skin. They beam at my answer and I think that they already knew what I'd say. Such a short time knowing one another and yet they seem to instantly guess what I'd prefer. Already.

It's kind of nice. Having someone know me long enough to make assumptions.

I clear my head, focusing on the upcoming station. When I see the first train zoom by, I can't help but gasp. Yet another form of transportation to boggle my mind.

Maes snickers and I go crimson, remembering yesterday's ride to Central City. Desperately I try to pass a silent plea that he'll keep to himself only to find him leaning to Gracia, eyes glinting sinisterly. I quickly avert my gaze and tell myself to ignore the humiliation bound to come.

"Misaki had never been on a train before," he says, loud enough for me to hear. I go on listening to the pitter patter of rain hitting the pavement. "Until yesterday."

Gracia, greatly interested, glances at me with surprise then goes back to prod her husband to continue. "And how what did she think?"

"It was fine," I mutter, drowned out by Maes going on a chatting spree.

"She freaked out. Started going up to people and asking: are you aware that we are basically inside a snake? A giant, life size snake that takes people to their destinations? By a _track_? We're inside a snake, on a track, going faster than a _car_."

He bursts into a chain of snorts, pulling Gracia down with him. Blushing madly, I struggle for my dignity.

"I-I didn't say that!" I protest, paranoid about eavesdroppers. I really hadn't said all that nonsense… exactly…

Maes grins, sticking out his tongue in a childish pose. I'm just ready to return the mocking gesture when a man runs right into me, hitting the worst spot ever.

With a yelp, I clutch to the bandaged wound, watching the guy, face covered by a hat of some kind, continue on through the crowd. No apology. No acknowledgment. Nothing. _Jackass_.

"Misaki, you alright?" Gracia asks, reaching out for my injury then thinking better of it. I nod, revealing the unkind attitude I held for jerks like that. Maes, after noting my answer, looks down and reaches for something. Confused, he holds a slip of paper, beginning to read it. It's a flimsy little thing and it takes no time for him to finish with a clueless expression. Submitting to my own curious nature, I ask what it is. He shrugs.

"No idea. He must have dropped it on accident, but I don't see how it would be important enough to return it."

I frown, asking why. Maes hands it to me and as we continue our trek to the ticket booth, I read it.

**_She loved the rain. But you already knew that._**

**_-819326_**

Something about the message forms goose bumps, or maybe it's just the rain. What bothers me is the gibberish at the end, the numbers. _819326_. What was that about? Was this some sort of angry ex-boyfriend threat or something?

I try reconstructing how he looked but recall just the hat. Hmm.

"Misaki? You're not going to flip out this time are you?"

"No!" I snap, still holding on to the slip. Maes, in mid chuckle, notes I haven't thrown it away yet. And just why hadn't I tossed it out already? It wasn't of any use for me.

Not wanting to cause any unreasonable suspicion, I excuse myself, casting a dirty look for the insult, and head over to the nearest trash bin. I put my palm over the container that reeks of gin and hesitantly peel open my grip.

The slip remains stuck between my fingers and I rejoin the Hughes. They have the tickets already and the next train had arrived. Much to Gracia's relief, there were no delays and we were soon boarding. When we take our seats, I casually grab at my shoulder, massaging it, and ever so discreetly, shoving it beneath the tight wrapping.

"Misaki, something wrong?" Gracia asks as I drop my hand, burning like I'd touched something foul.

"Nope," I answer, smiling weakly and tossing Maes a face that said I'd be calm and composed for the trip. He shoots back one saying he highly doubted it. "Say, Gracia? I never had the chance to tell you how amazing that apple pie of yours was."

It's a terrible way for me to change the subject, but Gracia seems excited enough. In an essay-worthy run down of ingredients, connections, and cooking steps, she pours into a normally dull, but interesting by the telling of the angel herself, description of how she came up with such a delicacy that tasted of the highest heavens. Maes, completely ensnared by everything about the woman since marriage, grins and coos and kisses her constantly. I try listening as intensely as I can manage to her explanation, but with the Lt. Colonel going bonkers and acting like a love addicted pup, I could hardly stifle several of my own snickers. It didn't help that on top of all that, Gracia kept going as if there wasn't a distraction of a man drooling all over her innocence. With a peek behind her, I could see that several other males were giving Gracia the fullness of their attention. As for behind me, well, I'm fairly certain they were clever enough to realize Maes would not put up with any 'check outs'. In fact, I was pretty positive that the man was the severe, psychotically jealous type. He may even come after me if I were to continue gaining his wife's attention. The thought makes me smile. Maybe it'd be fun to try it one day, test his nerves.

I didn't even realize the dangers of what I was thinking. I didn't even comprehend my own determination to stick around for a _next time_. The Hughes, as they said, were helping me forget.

The train doors slid shut and my heart sped. I knew Maes was watching me like a hawk, Gracia not too far behind. But why should I care?

Day two of being on a train. A _train_. Just connected cables and cars and people bustling about. On a track. A _track_. How insane was that?

The scenery outside begins to move and my nose is already pressing against the glass. We move faster and faster and I'm smiling, really smiling. Amazing. Too amazing. This is insane. The world is going by so quickly and we're aloud to walk around. Move freely about the cabin as they say.

"Misaki, did you want to grab something to eat? I'm sure the dinner car is nearby…"

I jolt up, not quite sure who spoke in the first place, just certain that I heard the words "dinner car". People could eat on this thing? Like at a restaurant?!

I stand up, admitting to my hunger, not bothering to recall the many times I'd thrown up. Staring at Maes, who was grinning like a loves stuck teenage boy, I dismiss my smile and speed on down the aisle, ignoring the amused glances of random strangers. At a sharp turn, I barely miss tumbling to my side, but I'm too eager to see this "dining car", so reflexes come handy. Gracia and Maes come after me far too slowly. I glance back at them impatiently, craning my neck to take in the moving background. A door, whispering my name, beckons so I thrust it open. Maes has a grip on my elbow, preventing me from jumping out and busting my head open on a sudden step. A burst of wind sweeps across my skin, bits of rain pelleting and hitting my eyes. Squinting, I sneak from Maes' clutches and lean my head out into the fresh air, remembering just how much I loved the feel of the wind speaking its foreign language. A sense of longing comes across me and I suddenly crave unleashing my beast like span of wings and take a quick flight, but the truth of immobility dawns on me and I sadly move forward into the next car.

When I've gotten far enough inside for the Hughes to shut the door, I open another, step inside, and nearly spit.

"Holy crap!" I shout shamelessly.

Tables. Tables on a _train_. Waiters going around and taking orders and chefs actually _cooking_. This was a train and we were _moving_. And yet people were going about, as if we weren't.

Well, they were until my little outburst.

Everyone in the car stares at me, thrown off by my excitement. Gracia, turning around to note her expression, was red. Maes, from behind me, was laughing his butt off. I wasn't sure what to do, so I casually strut forward to the nearest customer and lean down to their eye level, looking absolutely awe-struck.

"Are you aware you're eating while we're in motion?" I ask, wide eyed. Maes laughs even louder and suddenly I hear Gracia chime in. The lady I'd spoken to, at first stunned speechless, looks over at the Hughes and then back at me. Slowly, her lips twitch, and teeth show. She's grinning, covering her mouth, since it was full, and her shoulders dip up and down with laughter. I'm still in wonderland so I spin around to face the others, raising my voice excitedly.

"Seriously! Do you guys not realize just how amazing this is?! It's as if we're flying _and_ dining at the same time!"

Someone snorts. Another giggles. Then suddenly a voice rang out, clear as ever, and familiar as ever.

"Cheers to that!" he says, raising his glass and chuckling as everyone else in the room joins. Everyone erupts into laughter and cheers, shouting things like: "Welcome to Amestris, kid!" or "Enjoy the ride while you can!" But I couldn't seem to appeal to their mood any longer.

Because sitting smugly, pouring back his glass of whatever, was the egoistic, despicable man I'd yelled at just this morning.


	12. Unpleasant Pleasantries

"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself."

Ignoring his comment, I turn to Maes and Gracia to ask if there were any other dining cars. To my disappointment, they say this is the only one, making sure to pass a curious look between me and the bastard. Of course there weren't any other places to go because why should there be any other places to enjoy _not_ standing amongst the idiotic? Nope, just this one to take in the lovely company of the Colonel. On a train. Where there is no true escape. Great.

I'm ready to leave and head back to our seats when Mustang enthusiastically calls over the Hughes and me to join his little feast.

I decline before he finishes his sentence. Even Maes says so, taking my side and flashing the Colonel a dismissive scowl. Gracia however…

"We'd love to join you," Gracia insists, choosing the worst time ever to be the sweet thing she was. She gives Maes a subtle look saying 'resistance is futile', and he has no choice but to agree. Watching the couple take their places at the table, I slowly process that I may actually have to stick around. To my horror, Roy stands in a mock gentleman fashion, pulling out a chair for me. A chair that just happened to be right beside him. I grimace.

"I'd actually like to walk around if that's alright?" I try, shuffling away a few inches. Maes, sensing my plan, raises his hand, volunteering to accompany as a tour guide. After shooting him a dirty look, Roy puts his faith into Gracia who was blinking at Maes and me with pained disbelief. On closer inspection, I notice the Colonel has put on his own mask, feigning hurt and begging with shimmering eyes. Oh lord.

"Misaki, there really isn't anything else to see. The rest of the cars are basically seating areas for the other riders," Gracia points out, crushing my weak attempt to flee the scene. Maes, shooting an apologetic glance, relaxes into his seat. He's defeated and frothing with an unexplained frustration from having to put up with Roy, like me, but as soon as Gracia taps his shoulder and takes hold of his hand, he's back to goofy grins and glistening eyes.

So much for your appreciated support, Lt.

"Why don't you have a quick bite with us?" she asks. How am I supposed to refuse?

"Fine," I grumble, shooing away Roy's attempt to push in my chair like I was some kindergartener. After I had scooted with my chest pressing painfully against the corner of the table, the farthest I could manage from the despicable man, Roy takes his own seat. I don't pay him any attention, staring off in a sizzling anger at unfortunate passers. A few take in my foul mood with wide eyes, shivering their way down and into the next car. Maes, in the middle of fawning over his beloved, catches sight of my fit and almost snorts.

Roy, in a sickeningly cheerful tone, goes off on what a pleasant surprise it is to run into the three of us. The whole time he speaks, I can feel that searing stare of his digging into me. I leave the conversation to Gracia, frequently sending distress signals to Maes, who was on the border of cracking up. What was so funny? Was he laughing at _me_?

I hardly listen to what is being said until my name pops up.

"Oh really? I'm sure she'll love it."

"…Hmm?" What could Gracia be telling him? Roy rests his chin on his knuckles, watching me with a creepy fascination. He looks as if he'd been told the dirtiest secret, and judging by the way he's refusing to cringe under my deadly stare, it's about me.

"To think you've already earned the trust of the crew…" he says, tapping his cheek. He shakes his head in disbelief. I haven't the faintest clue what he's going off about. He's smiling, but remembering our talk from earlier, I notice a quiet hurting in his expression.

"What does he mean?" I ask, directing the question to Gracia, but finding myself unable to break away from Roy's gaze. Automatically he answers for her.

"They're taking you to their 'usual place'. Quite a big deal."

I toss the Hughes a curious glance. "I've been hearing that quite a bit now. Just where exactly is this place?" I ask. My two companions only wink, revealing nothing.

"The usual place, of course," Roy says happily.

Upset, I throw a sarcastic thanks, turning back to glare away at random passengers. What the hell was this usual place, and why did it piss me off to know that everyone knew but me?

Roy chuckles.

"So I'm guessing you're not a regular when it comes to trains, hmm?" he asks. I ponder whether this is a schemed attempt to insult me, taking the time to answer.

"No," I sigh. "No, I suppose not."

"It's her second time," Maes jumps in. I reward him with an acid smile. _Thanks for the ammunition, friend_.

"No kidding," Roy says with a hint of humor.

"So what," I say defensively, risking a glimpse at his smirk. With a steaming regret, I turn away again, peeved off. Smirks and stupid talk about seeing my flame burning bright. This man was an idiot.

"So your little display of awe earlier was adorable."

Someone sneezes and I jolt in my seat. My heart thrashes and I strain for composure, snarling at the Colonel.

"Don't be an idiot."

Roy tilts his head innocently, leaning forward.

"Bubbles-"

"Misaki," I correct.

"Why haven't you told me this before?" he asks with a mischievous gleam. I scoot to the furthest edge on my chair. "I would have taken you aboard one sooner."

I blow out through gritting teeth, lifting a curtain of hair. As if I would have ever considered going anywhere with him alone. He was a true nutcase. Bah.

"I suppose I just wasn't feeling up to telling you anything personal," I answer, trying yet again to look elsewhere. Roy wouldn't have any of it, striving to humor me.

"Don't have trains where you're from, eh?" he presses. Gracia, in the corner of my eye, looks suddenly interested. Maes, even with the glint in the glasses, I could tell was equally eager to hear my answer. Two of them, for sure, knew of my previous life in the palace. Was this to get some information out of me? Or was this genuine curiosity?

"No," I choose to say, looking over at the half empty glass resting in front of Roy. "We were more of a 'by foot' crowd." I notice I've used the past tense once again without thinking. If I was going to dance around and give up pieces of the past, I really should do so with more precaution. These were military officials. You never knew what they could use with even the minor details.

Wait a minute. Why bother saying anything? I could save myself the trouble.

"Roy," Maes goes off, leaving me simmering in my train of thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, taking hold of his drink and swirling it around. "Call it insightful traveling. Felt like going on a little adventure. Maybe catch some inspiration."

Well that's a load of bull crap.

"What could inspiration possibly do for you?" I grumble under my breath, casting a scornful expression. "You're perhaps one of the most unmotivated people I've ever come across."

"You don't know that," Roy says, waving the insult off.

"Your own Lieutenant had to come to her own quarters to tell you to go do your work," I point out.

"That's one thing," he dismisses.

"You fall asleep at your desk numerous times. You sneak away from the office to go on your little 'walks'. You wait for girls to fall at your feet and swoon into your arms," I list off, maintaining a withering look. In response, he opens his mouth, wondering how on earth I could possibly know all this.

Maes becomes interested with something outside the window. Roy catches his distraction.

"Maes…" he growls, setting his glass down almost with a crash. "Getting awfully comfortable with talking to her, aren't you?"

Maes messes with the collar of his attire, laughing. "Yes, ah, well she's a persistent one. Wouldn't have any of my 'sworn secrecy', I'm afraid.'

I glare at him. That wasn't at all the way it went. Way to throw me under the bus, Lt.

Roy, distrustful, sighs and turns back to me.

"So you got me there," he admits, defeated. This is probably where I'm supposed to celebrate and relish in the victory, but quite frankly, I don't care.

"With that made clear, what's the _real_ reason you're here, and at the exact same time as us?" I ask accusingly. To this, Roy shrugs once again.

"Fate?"

I glower at his attempt to evade the truth. Something suspicious was going on. I didn't appreciate his vagueness.

"Misaki," Gracia pops into the conversation. She sounds reserved, a little nervous to speak amongst the men and me. I give her a welcoming smile to show she was still on my good side. She returns it before shaking her head and gazing down into her lap. "Never mind."

Roy, Maes, and I all pass her a confused expression before delving into awkward silence.

Of course the waiter chooses that moment to ask for our drink orders.

"Water."

"Water."

"What he has."

As the waiter leaves with a formal appreciation and assurance the wait would be next to nothing, Gracia and Maes look at me with wide eyes. Oblivious for a while, I continue to people watch/glare, and notice that eyes are trained upon me. Nervously I switch between the couple, wondering if there was something on my face.

"What?" I ask confusingly. Roy, beside me, also observes me with an almost impressive gawk. "Did I do something wrong?"

Gracia bites her lip. "No," she says, uncertainly, "I wouldn't say you did anything…wrong…"

"It's just…" Maes continues, having just as much trouble speaking. "It's just that we didn't think you were…umm… of that sort…"

I take in their answers with frustration, making absolutely no sense of their meanings. What did I do? Did I order wrong? Was there a way to do that?

Roy chuckles.

"_What_?" I say, on edge.

"They're just surprised that you're going straight for the hard stuff," he says, nodding at his drink. It then comes to me that I've just ordered alcohol. For no particular reason, except to see what it was the Colonel had been drinking. Because I was too stubborn to ask the man himself.

I have the urge to slam my head on the table. Repeatedly.

"Y-Yeah? So?" I recover my image poorly, trying to convince everyone drinking was not a big deal. Even though I'd never actually done it, because I wasn't of age yet.

Gracia and Maes go pink. Roy laughs.

"What?" I ask for the umpteenth time.

"Misaki," Gracia says, pausing. "How…umm…How old are you?"

The room seems oddly cold except for the fiery screwball of an alchemist beside me, watching with a burning question: Yes, how old _are_ you?

"Twenty-three," I lie. "How old did you think I was?"

Roy catches my act immediately. He rolls his eyes, knocking back the rest of his 'strong stuff'. Maes and Gracia, however, have similar, horrified reactions. It's kind of…offensive.

"No kidding!" Maes exclaims, drawing attention from nearby customers. "Twenty-three?! I thought you were sixteen!"

The waiter came back with our refreshments, right when I decide to shout in a fit of rage.

"Are you serious?!" I exclaim, ignoring the performance our server gave, juggling glasses and trying not to spill any of its contents on us. "I do _not_ look that young!"

I mean sure, I'm not exactly in the twenties yet, but I was nineteen for god sake. _Nineteen_.

Roy snorts and Gracia mutters a hundred apologies, since apparently she too felt the need to downgrade me to a freaking sixteen year old. _Geez_.

"Ma'am," the squeak of the waiter addresses me, trembling with sudden fear at the flames in my eyes. "Your drink...I'm afraid I've-"

"It's fine," I say. Roy smirks.

"Oh? Are you sure you can't just order another?" he provokes, leaving me wondering what in the world he was up to. The waiter seems to pray I won't take another, and I don't want one anymore anyways.

"I'm fine, really," I insist.

"Oh…I'd almost forgotten," he says, tossing a mocking, apologetic face. "You can't seem to handle anything at the mom-"

He hardly finishes before I've gone and commanded the waiter bring me another.

"I don't think that's a great idea, Misaki," Gracia warns, looking at Roy with disapproval. "You really aren't in the state to take in anything too severe."

Maes agrees.

"I can handle a little bit of liquor," I huff, staring daggers into the Colonel. There's a shimmer of concern in his eyes that I take as smugness.

"You sure, Bub-?"

"God dammit, that is not my name!" I shout with a homicidal gleam in my eyes. Gracia jumps at my outburst. Maes blinks in alarm. People closest to us begin whispering in hushed voices, the occasional pieces floating their way towards my sensitive hearing. "What's going on?" "Fighting?" "A lover's quarrel?"

I spin around to glower at the nearest group. They shrink down under my murderous gaze, wondering what had happened to the cheery girl who was freaking out earlier about dining on trains.

"We are _not_ lovers," I clarify, nostrils flaring. Shakily, they nod. Roy, I find, hasn't stopped observing me. His corners fall up and down and I just _know_ he's dying to smile. Maes suddenly breaks into laughter, earning a concerned stare from his wife. The waiter, drink in hand, paused in mid approach, debating whether or not I'd want it right this second. I cast a frightening glare, making his mind up for him. In a dash, he leaves us. Roy whistles.

"Getting a little aggressive there aren't you?" he teases.

"As I should," I snap. "Wouldn't want any outrageous ideas floating around in here."

"What's so terrible about being my darling? Give me a chance and you'll fall head over heels for me, I guarantee it," Roy says snidely. Disgusted, I let out a bitter bark.

"Big talk for a man who can't even last in a fight with a girl."

His eyes harden and his smile wavers. "I went easy on you."

"Is that what you say to your womanly friends?" I spit. "Right before they leave you with a lingering disappointment?"

"Kid, all the girls I've been with, I assure you, I've satisfied to the final second," he fires back with an obvious anger.

"I am _not_ a kid," I snarl.

"You are _not_ twenty-three," he retorts.

"Beats being a perverted bastard, condemned to paperwork and having another woman to help him keep his life together."

He rises taller in his chair, smile widening unsettlingly. "So little miss adult, care for me to show you the friendly greeting, Flame Alchemist style?"

I pull away.

"Back off. I am _not_ one of your toys you take home to play with," I hiss. Roy's smile slips. I've struck nerve. Gracia is at war with herself, trying to figure out what to say to ease the tension. Maes' laugh subsides. The entire train seems drawn to our argument.

"That's alright. I hardly mess with the broken ones anyway," he says through clenched teeth, hitting bull's eye on my sensitive side. That gets Maes to interfere.

"Roy-" he warns, but I've already gone to my feet, hair covering my eyes. Gracia looks horrified, just as disapproving of the Colonel's words as Maes. Darkly, I laugh.

"Right. Broken toy…" I mutter.

"Wait," Roy changes his tone, sounding regretful. "I didn't-"

"No, no," I insist, tightening my grip on the tablecloth, wrinkling its perfection. "You're right. This broken toy doesn't want jack shit to do with you either, so I'll be heading back to my seat." With that, I push away the chair, uncaring that I've accidently sent it toppling over to the ground. People continue to murmur and I force my way out of the dining car, refusing to well over with unreasonable tears.

As the first door leading outside shuts, I pause in the small, confined space and squeeze my fists against my eyes until I see black spots.

Why is it every time I come across that bastard, I end up leaving feeling like complete shit?

The door behind me swings open and soft hands curl around my wrist, tugging it away from my face. Gracia.

"Sorry," I say, refusing to budge. "That was immature of me."

"No," she replies in a huff. "What Mustang said to _you_ was immature. You have nothing to apologize for, like always."

That's miles away from the truth. I had plenty to apologize for. But as always, I can't bring myself to come saying this out loud.

"I'm sorry I made you sit down with us," Gracia whispers. "I-"

"If I don't get to apologize, then you don't either," I interrupt, allowing myself to offer her a weak smile. To my relief, she returns it.

"Alright," she says. "Then shall we head on back?"

"In there?" I ask worriedly, not sure I could handle facing him again. She shakes her head.

"Our seats, c'mon." She leads the way, opening the second door to a blast of wind. "Girl to girl talk!" she yells over the noise.

What a wonderfully weird person to want to hang around me even after what happened. Momentarily I think of the absence of Maes, but I don't question my luck with Gracia and follow with her gentle pull.

* * *

_"__Kaze?" _

_I didn't respond, keeping my face shrouded beneath my trembling arms, pressing tightly against my knees. My body racked with sobs, my cheeks burned with embarrassment from being found in this state. Right beside me, the note I had read over and over sat, soaked by my tears. A shadow loomed over me and I knew it was Naomi. _

_ "__Kaze, what's wrong?" she asks. I don't answer. With a sigh, she takes a seat next to me, not making any contact whatsoever. She knew how I hated going through these moments. That I was not the type who normally demonstrated a depression like this. But she also knew I secretly sought for support. Her being there was enough. _

_She sighed again._

_ "__Well if you're just going to sulk there all day, then I guess I'll have to keep my latest plot of operation: get rid of Himayo, all to myself."_

_Himayo, the world's most hated teacher. Naomi and I had been talking nonstop of ways to get rid of the devilish hag, but I was in no mood to ruin any lives today, let alone Himayo. Of course this came as a shock to my friend and she understood the severity of my funk._

_ "__Dang," she mutters, suddenly sounding overwhelmed with concern. "You really are upset. Jeez K. Who did this to you?" _

_Her weight shifted and I know she's found the note. I sniffled, bracing for her to ridicule me for being such a weakling. It was such a stupid thing, what got me worked up. Such a stupidly, immature, childish thing. She stayed with me, reading the short message scrawled hatefully by one of our classmates. A jerk who bullied me from time to time and had never succeeded on hitting me where it hurts. Until now._

_When she finished, there was an awkward silence filled with my sniffles. I almost believed she had gotten up and left, when Naomi slammed her hands down angrily, startling me. For a while nothing was said. I continued to peer into the dark pits of my slouched over depression, waiting for Naomi to burst. Which didn't happen how I expected it to. _

_ "__What an asshole," she said aloud. _

_I appreciated her willingness to state the obvious, but that didn't change how down in the dumps I was. With a deep, shaky exhale I melted further into my gloom. _

_I contemplated ways of going into hiding and avoiding the 'asshole' who crushed my spirits, when Naomi snatched my wrists, pulling them forward and forcing me to blink surprisingly at her firm expression. Releasing one hand she took out the white paper, waving it in the air like some prize. Her mouth hardened and her ears pinked. My tears continued to trickle, making me feel uncomfortable. With a sigh and a swift grace, she used the back of her hand to erase away a couple of lonesome droplets. _

_ "__Kaze," she addressed, frowning. "He's an asshole. Nothing new there. But girl, you can't let him get to you. You and I both know he's all talk. We _all_ know that he has no balls. And if he did, they'd be the size of that meal we had in that French parlor. Remember? The one where I ordered the steak and ended up with the flea sized dog treat? God that place sucked."_

_I snorted. Being this congested made it seem like I was readying to hack._

_ "__But anyways," she continued, grateful to have gotten a promising reaction. "That's beside the point. What you need to be doing right now, instead of crying over some bullshit some twerp goes off writing about like some sissy-priss, is getting up, wiping that beautiful face of yours because tears do not go well with your fabulous complexion, and coming with me to go over operation: get rid of Himayo, _and_ wait for it…prissy-pants himself."_

_She lifted my chin, making sure I'd clearly see her take the slip I'd beaten myself over, ripping it into several smaller pieces. Rather than dispose of them right away, she held the shreds in her palm. I saw the words clearly in my mind despite the now illegible note._

_**Hey whore spouse,**_

******_Be sure to let your insane mom know my father isn't up for grabs anymore. It must suck having a slut for a mother and a dad who is not only blind physically but also oblivious to the truth. Care to talk about it over lunch sometime? Oh wait, you probably can't even afford that._**

******_Sucks to suck,_**

******_~Jahlil_**

_ "__Kaze," Naomi said, snapping her fingers. "Earth to K." When she saw I was back in the world of the living, she continued. "Now, question time. Are you a, as the illiterate moron puts it, a 'whore spouse'?"_

_I hesitated before saying no._

_ "__Wrong," she said, thwacking me on the nose. With an exclamation, I scowled and demanded what her problem was. "You hesitated. Hesitation is the incorrect answer. Let us start over. Fujiin, dude inhabiting a woman's body," she pauses here to grin at my hiccup of laughter, "are you or are you not, a 'whore spouse'?"_

_ "__No," I said instantly. Naomi nodded approvingly. _

_ "__Correct. Next up…"_

_She went on asking question after ridiculous question, stopping me whenever I seemed unsure, or whenever I was dying to break out into a fit of giggles. The ritual was over in a matter of a few minutes and I was good as new at the end. Naomi had completed her goal, getting me to communicate, poking and pushing me to my normal, witty self. What I felt to be impossible, getting me to see how silly the whole freak out was, turned out to be a snap for the incredible, amazing Naomi. _

_I sniffed, pushing back my hair and rubbing my eyes. She shoved the paper shreds in my face, switching to her infamous bossy mode._

_ "__Wind Goddess. Work your magic."_

_I fixed on her, puzzled. Rolling her eyes, she flicked me. I winced. "Hey, what are you…?"_

_I understood._

_With a sigh, I rummaged through my pocket, extracting a single glove marked by the symbol of wind alchemy. Naomi, unmoving, waited until I slipped my palm in the worn material, raising it to my lips. Before I could exhale, she cupped her other hand over the slips, adding, "Not just the paper. Your thoughts too."_

_Peaking a brow, I watched her open the hand again, and tried to make sense of her request. Not only did I rid of Jahil's cruel words, I sent away the part of me that cared. I let go of the shame and pain of the truth._

_We watched the notes drift away until it was out of sight. Then with a poke to her cheek, I spoke jokingly to Naomi._

_ "__That's the last time I let you force me to litter."_

_She laughed, clasping her hands on my shoulders._

_ "__Atta girl. Let's go cause trouble."_

* * *

"Anxiety attack?"

Gracia nods, helping me back to our seats, grasping firmly to my sweating palms. I'd just finished vomiting yet again in one of the bathroom stalls (which still completely boggled my mind…we were on a train still…I think) and Gracia had delved into a series of possible explanations for my recent illnesses. None of which had really seemed correct, until her final inquiry.

"So… you think that…I'm possibly unable to take in anything because I'm _nervous_?"

"Well," Gracia goes off, humming thoughtfully to herself. "If anything, I would think it would be because you've been stressed out."

I consider this, settling into the soft cushion of my chair. Gracia takes her spot beside me, watching with a staggering fretfulness.

I did suppose the times I lost my stomach were always at points where I caved down to negative emotions. Could that really be the case? But thinking back to recent times after the Aerugo incident, I'd experienced stages of grief and as Gracia put it, 'stress'. So why is it, out of the blue, I'm going around yacking like there's no tomorrow?

"Are you feeling sick again?"

I shake my head, realizing that wasn't such a great idea. For a moment the floor spins and I massage my neck. Gracia reaches out on impulse, feeling for a fever. She draws back with a lopsided frown.

"You _are_ a little warm…"she murmurs. I brush away her concern.

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

Shaking her head she puts up a stern expression.

"I think," I add nervously. "So… going off on the whole anxiety dilemma… If that were to be the case, do you know if there's any way to, well, _not_ constantly feel the need to lose my appetite? Because, I mean, I'd really like to fully enjoy your food again…"

Gracia puts a finger to her chin in concentration, tapping. She smiles at my last comment concerning her food, blushing slightly. "Hmm… I would guess that relaxing would help out a lot."

Something about the way she says that makes me believe she's scolding.

"That makes sense," I laugh weakly.

"It's reasonable," she agrees.

"Thus, I suppose that would mean you'd like to avoid speaking to me, correct?"

I glance away and out into the scenery, scornful of Roy's appearance. Unfortunately his reflection gazes back into me and I can't shake away his exposing influence. Right next to him, Maes looks tired. I briefly speculate about what the boys could have been talking about. I had a feeling Maes had argued on my part. The possibility is comforting.

"Maes," Gracia protests, but he gives a shake, signaling her to join him and leave the two of us to tear each other's throats. I was hoping she'd put up more of a fight to stay, but she pats me on the back and leaves. Roy, after the couple's departure, has the nerve to take Gracia's spot. I shrivel away as far as possible, squishing myself into the corner.

"If you go any further, you're going to become part of the décor," he says, resting his elbow on an armrest. I grumble something unintelligible. Roy sighs. "Are you alright?"

I look at him, annoyed.

"What do you want?" I ask bitterly.

"I was just asking if you're doing alright," he says, keeping a controlled tone. "Can I not demonstrate some concern?"

"No," I say. "You can't. So screw off."

Roy clucks his tongue, bothered. "Honestly, you're being a bit harsh."

"Sorry to have hurt your feelings," I mumble.

We sit in silence for a bit. I continue to gaze out at our surroundings, taking in the steady beat of the train. If it had been the Hughes at my side rather than the jerk, I probably would have been enjoying the ride. The view was relatively serene. Greenery went by in a blur and flowers of all kinds decorated the fields. They remind of the roses I'd been given and my heart does a slight plummet. Riza. When Riza arrives at the apartment, what will she think about my absence? What will she think of that mountain of a vase?

I still can't over the fact Maes and Gracia were sweet enough to bring me a get well gift. Really. It was too much. I had to think of a way to repay them.

"You're not a broken toy."

I turn to regard his statement taken aback. Roy has one eye closed and one focusing on me. "What?"

"I said you're not a broken toy. What I said was idiotic on my part," he explains, shutting his eye.

"_I'll_ say," I fume, turning back to the window.

We go silent once again. I almost believe Roy is falling asleep. If he were to start leaning towards me, even accidently, I'd probably punch him. Savior or not, I wouldn't stand for his stupidity.

"Oy."

My veins throb and I actually do wish he'd pass out. It'd beat hearing him say anything else insulting.

"Oy," he says again, more demanding.

"_What_?" I snarl.

Startled, he takes a sec to gather his thoughts. "You… You really hate me, don't you?"

I laugh heatedly. "What gives it away?"

Roy broods, rubbing the back of his neck. He says nothing. At his silence, I go back to sight-seeing, hoping our destination would arrive soon. How I wish Gracia would come and pick me up to join her back in the dining area, rather than being here.

I couldn't keep myself from thinking back to those ridiculous things he spewed this morning. Nonsense about beautiful flames and fear of losing me. Stupid. Moronic. Gibberish.

"If…If you could be an animal…what would you choose?"

"…what?..."

Roy was shifting uncomfortably, his arms crossed in a fitful pose. "I said…if you-"

"No, I heard what you said, idiot," I glower, narrowing my eyes. "I'm asking what the hell kind of crap you're spewing."

Roy pulls a provoked profile, opening his mouth in exasperation. "It's called 'starting a conversation'."

"Ok," I retort testily, "then what I'm about to say is called, 'telling someone to shut up'. So shut up."

"I can't have _one_ normal conversation with you?" he fumes.

"There was nothing 'normal' about what you asked me," I grumble.

"Would you at least answer the question? What if I'm actually curious?"

"Well that sucks on your part, go away."

With a growl lodged in his throat, he smiles wickedly. "I can never get used to that. The sheer feistiness in that tiny body of yours…how do you do it?"

"For the record," I hiss, spinning to have him completely in my view. "I'm not _that_ small."

He swivels to match my position, holding me in his sights, smile widening. "What are you, 5"1?"

"Try 5"2, asshole," I spit.

"Oh, my apologies. I tend to forget just how crucial that single inch can be," he says sarcastically.

"Go back to your paperwork, Colonel," I say feverishly, pissed to have been made fun of age _and_ size.

"It's my day off."

"Then go home."

"We're on the middle of a train. I'm not going to head out there just to purchase a ticket back home."

"Jump off, then. Right now."

"That's cruel, Bubbles."

"Misaki," I correct, frothing with rage. "That's M-I-S-A-K-I. Would it kill you to get it right?"

"Would it kill you to have a heart?"

I smash my finger against the glass, glaring madly. "I'll break the glass, you jump out. Got it?"

"That's cute."

"Ugh!" I yell. "Are you just not going to consider leaving me alone? Are you not going to realize that I do not want anything, I repeat, _anything_ to do with you!"

He blinks at me.

"If you could be an animal…"

"Stop saying stupid shit! No, you know what? Stop talking all together! If you're going to stay, then sit and be silent!"

"No can do," he answers.

"And why not?"

"Because," he says, continuing to leer at me. "I want to know what animal you would choose."

There had to be a limit in this planet. There just had to be a limit to how stupid one person can be. Honestly.

I place my fingers at the bridge of my nose, pinching. "You're telling me if I answer your idiotic question, you'll leave me alone?" I groan.

"Maybe," Roy shrugs.

"GOD. FINE."

Animal…Animal… What anima would I choose to be… This was ridiculous! What the hell was I even doing? Animal…Animal…

"A white tiger."

Roy contemplates this, nodding at whatever he visualized in his mind.

"Ok, now go away," I command. Roy doesn't even budge.

"You strike more as the squirrel figure," he suggests, serious. A part of my head seems to explode.

"What are you even implying?" I demand hotly.

"Oh, you know, those little creatures that always seem to run to one side then just out of nowhere decides to settle for a different route dead center on the street. And before you know it, Ker splat. Road kill."

"You bastard…"

"Don't you see? You're both indecisive."

"You'd make for a perfect mule."

"Oh? And why is that?" he asks irritably.

"Because you're a complete ASS."

"_Oh_, you got me, Bubbles."

"GOD FREAKING DAMMIT. Can you _not_?" I explode, raising a trembling fist.

"If you were to ask me-"

"I didn't-"

"I'd go more for the wolf," he says, flashing a row of what could have easily been fangs.

"Try lion," I suggest, going back to the window, calming to a more sensible level. Roy, confused, asks why. "Because you're a disgusting excuse of a thing we tend to call a _womanizer_."

"Thank you, but this I know," he says without a hint of frustration.

"You mean you're _proud_ of that fact?" I say incredulously. He sneers and I hold in the urge to vomit again. "You're revolting…"

"Thanks gorgeous," he says smugly.

"Screw off, Mule."

Roy erupts into laughter. Not expecting that, I flatten myself against the wall, startled by his sudden hysteria. "What is _wrong_ with you?"

He takes his time to falter to a more sensible point, softening his expression to a comfortable level. "I win."

"_Huh_?"

He looks back over at me, crinkling his eyes with a strange contentment.

"I got you to engage in a conversation with me."

"_And_?"

He stretches, pulling out a hand to cover a yawn.

"That was my goal. I wanted to have a normal chat with you," he admits, leaning back into the seat.

"I don't see, at all, how any of that was considerably _normal_."

Roy shrugs. "It is what it is."

"Unless what you consider normal is when people are constantly yelling at you," I grumble, pleased by the thought. "The Colonel's rarely involved in a conversation with people who actually want to speak to him."

He tosses a perplexed expression. "Bub-"

"Stop it," I snap. "You don't need to constantly remind me of that…incident."

The horrible memory of him standing in the bathroom, cracking up at the sight of me submitting to my inner child…unbearable. I shudder. Roy smirks.

"Oh, but I do," he says, grinning evilly. "How else are you going to distinguish me from others when they call your name? I'm simply making it easier for you."

"Like I'd ever need to know when you're asking for me!" I yell, kicking his leg. Roy hardly reacts, making sure to taunt.

"Oh dear. It seems as though a bug's gone and nipped me."

"That bug's going to 'nip' at your eyes next," I threaten.

"Oh, I've got the chills."

"You're freaking _dead_."

"Care to accompany me outside for a friendly spar?"

"With pleasure," I growl, popping my knuckles. It'd just be another repeat of last time. "Even with this excuse of a shoulder, and no alchemy, you are _no_ match for me."

"Is that a challenge?"

I scoff. "Hardly."

"Quite the determination there."

"It doesn't take much to convince myself you'd easily suffer an ass whooping, Mule."

"Squirrel."

"Bastard."

"Bubble-lover."

"Prostitute."

Roy goes red with frustration. "P-Prostitute?!"

"Isn't that basically what a womanizer is?"

"Do you _know_ what you're saying?"

"Sorry, sorry. How do you call a man a slut?"

"…quite the ugly mouth you have on you…"

"What's the matter? Can't handle the 'flame'?"

He flinches, recalling his own words. "Wh-What?"

"Afraid to _lose me_?"

"I take back everything I said!"

"Thank you! Now perhaps my 'anxiety attacks' will tone done a notch."

"You'd make a nice pile of ash."

"Try it. I _dare_ you."

"Now, now children. Let's make sure to get along here."

Roy and I simultaneously turn to glare at Maes. "Go away," we say in unison.

Stunned, we look at one another.

"Don't mock me," I snap.

"Don't imitate me," he retorts.

"You two are just so cute together," Maes coos, earning a frightening snarl from the two of us. From behind him, Gracia emerges, shakily holding out her hands in a peaceful surrender.

"Ah…Let's…umm…How about we all just sit together and order some refreshments…?" she timidly suggests, calming only when Maes loops his arm around her waist. I look at her, fall victim to her cuteness, and nod stiffly.

"That's a great idea, I'm pretty thirsty," I say. Roy, back to giving me his invasive stares, reclaims his composure. I go back to ignoring him.

Maes has this dreamy look to him that I do not approve. Gracia, fearing I'd go rabid and beat up the Colonel the second she left, snatches my wrist, tugging me quite a distance from the men. When we're far away enough, she leans towards me and whispers ever so quietly.

"I'm sorry about him… Maes always warned me of his temper, but…well I've never seen him lose it this much."

Why did it seem like everyone had to apologize on Roy's behalf?

"It's fine," I whisper back, sensing the boys following from afar. "Whenever we get to the station and head to wherever it is you plan to take me, everything will be alright."

Gracia pales then coughs, trying to cover it up.

"He's not coming right?" I ask hopefully.

Gracia only laughs nervously.

From behind me, I feel the stares of the demon's fiery gaze.


	13. The Usual Place

When the train finally pulls to a stop and I've downed the last of my lemonade, Gracia and I stay seated, waiting for the stampede of passengers to die down to a safer minimum. Roy and Maes, sitting a good three tables away from us, wait for the crowd to simmer down as well.

I'm not too terribly happy with what was in store for me, seeing as the Colonel would be involved. The rest of the ride had been disquieting thanks to that inconsiderate mind of his. Gracia, before flourishing with bursts of euphoria and energy, had wasted away into a nervous wreck, occasionally drawing wearisome glances between Roy and I. Maes however, not on the best of sides after his previous comment, was determined not to break under the wrath of the two of us. Even from here, fiddling with the straw that had been given along with the drink, I could see his relentless smile as well as the Colonel's grouchy slump. It was apparent how horribly the opposite moods clashed with one another. If we didn't get out soon, someone was bound to lose their life.

Gracia sighs. "Ready?" she asks, striving for that fluctuating optimism. She stands, offering her hand to me and I graciously accept. I just couldn't see how anyone would ever resist her good natured personality. The woman was too generous.

"Yup," I beam to the best of my abilities. Without calling attention to the boys, we head on out into the drizzling outdoors. I exhale happily, savoring the fresh air. The water feels great on my skin, and it's almost possible for me to forget the additional companion we've taken in, the idea of having to spend more unnecessary time with an excuse of a gentleman. Almost.

"Crap! I left my umbrella back on the…" Roy's voice shatters my bliss, driving me to spin angrily around to demand for some respect to this beautiful weather. However I'm unable to do so by the sheer panic that has taken over his features. The train doors, immediately after the men stepped off, had shut, refusing to budge open. Roy, determined little bastard he was, didn't seem to understand that it wouldn't be open anytime soon and was bashing on the surface with his fist in a sort of frenzy. Maes rolls his eyes. I take in the scene with inquisitiveness.

"Damn it," the boy mutters thus ending his foolish fit. Maes, sickened by his friend's behavior, takes his place back with his wife in his arms. I make sure to flash Gracia a smile that expresses my admiration for the love entangling between the two before turning back to speak once more with my sworn enemy. I take a deep breath.

"What is it?" I ask, attempting an unaggressive, non-provoking approach. Roy, stiffening, casts a dreadful glare that could have melted anyone on the spot, were it not me. His eyes pulse with a swirling rage and he bites his lip before snapping.

"It's raining."

Unconsciously I shrug. Maes makes a scoffing noise.

"Yeah? So?"

Roy doesn't seem to find this that simple. He tensely raises his hands to his head, blocking a few droplets. He tends to remain covered by the decomposing, wooded roof of the station, grimacing at the puddles forcing their way into the cracks of the floorboards. It's then I recall he is in fact, the Flame Alchemist, and what more could a flame hate than the terrifyingly cool substance of H2O?

I can't seem to rid of the sneer possessing my lips.

"Is the Colonel afraid of a little rain?" I leer, lifting my chin up in a vicious, merciless fashion. In response, Roy reddens then goes off bubbling a series of lame excuses. Dismissively, I wave him off and begin making my way up to the Hughes who were all too happy to depart with just me in tow. Sadly, having only the three of us make the trip wasn't going to be an option.

"I hate rain. I really, really hate rain. Why the hell does it have to rain on a _Sunday_ of all days?" he complains, jogging to keep in step with us despite our increasing speed. Gracia, even with her pure goodliness, hardly stirs at his rant. Maes, staring on ahead, speaks to me in a tone that implied we were simply on a pleasant stroll.

"He gets like that because he's absolutely useless when he's wet."

I grin, scrutinizing Roy's heated reaction. "You don't say," I whistle. "Care to light a match for me?"

"Care to dry my hair for me?" he retorts, huffing. I open my mouth, then shut it again. No need to start a squabble with Gracia here in the middle.

She tosses an appreciative expression.

"What, no comeback, Bubbles?" he antagonizes, giving up with his pitiful display of shielding himself from the horrendous wrath of the light sprinkle. I flinch but convince myself, with great, great difficulty, to just let the moment slide. He wasn't worth wasting energy on. Not at all.

"All right," Maes claps, bringing me to attention. Gracia beams with a revived excitement, closing her eyes in absolute adoration. "Roy and I will drop by my place and grab a couple of things before heading on down."

At this, Roy lets out an audible sigh.

"Misaki and Gracia," Maes starts but then interrupts himself with a nauseatingly sweet peck on Gracia's lips, gushing with a storm of feelings. Unthinkingly, Roy and I toss each other an uncomfortable look before realizing who we were dealing with and shooting a last second scowl. "You girls are going to get a head start and have the area to yourselves for a bit."

I was perfectly okay with that. And based on the way Gracia was really glowing, she was just as fine.

"Alright, let's get to it then! Girls, be safe," Maes says, wrapping his beloved in a final departing gesture. Her face presses against his chest and she lovingly embraces the man, muttering for his own safe travels. At one point, Maes goes emotional and buries his face in her neck murmuring how badly he missed her already.

Roy and I just sort of say nothing and refuse to make the same mistake of sharing the same emotions. Instead, we clear our throats simultaneously, which wasn't exactly something we were willing to do either. Fitfully, I glare at him and glares right on back, beads of water making his hair glisten.

"Your hair is certainly sparkling today, Colonel," I hiss, completely disregarding my self-restraining attempts. "It suits that boyish appeal you have going on. Bet the ladies truly love going out with the facial features equivalent to a nine year old."

Roy smiles irritably, parting his lips to fire his own attack when Maes snatches the collar of his shirt, yanking him away. I'm feeling relatively smug, having the final word. Roy, however, has a darkening aura, and I know he's vowing to get another nasty comment in when we met back up at the 'usual place'. The ball was in his court now.

"Misaki, ready to go?"

I turn to Gracia, erasing evidence of my devilish contentment of beating my opponent. "Yes~~" I sing, feeling strangely warm and eager.

* * *

_ "__Papa!" I yelled, barging through the front door with a hearty kick. "I'm home!"_

_From one of the bedrooms, I heard the usual "Welcome home!" and smiled. I'd just gotten out of class, racing Naomi through the market street, making sure to pull off a couple of harmless pranks on the local bullies. It had been yet another ravishing success on our parts. Thick as thieves. We were invincible when it came to the dirtiest tricks in the book. Normally I would have stuck around the girl to ploy our next form of attack, but I was craving a bit of knowledge from my old man. I'd been dying to give knife throwing a go. Those blades had been calling for me for the last month and I was intending to answer!_

_As I stepped further inside, I took the opportunity to notice my surroundings. These returns back home in the daytime had been growing fewer and fewer the past few weeks. The place was an absolute mess. Newspapers strewn about, dishes piling on the tables, it was real chaos. From a nearby sofa, dust bunnies were invading the space. The stomach quenching stench of garbage drowned my senses. Even the floor seemed to stick to the soles of my shoes as I entered. Of course Papa and I were never the ones made for doing housework. Mama had always been the one to take care of that._

_I shook my head, sending those thoughts away. What was I doing, recollecting the past? It'd only cause questions and Papa couldn't handle those anymore. No, Papa was doing better and I intended for him to continue that way. Mama was no concern of mine anymore. She could do whatever she so pleased for all I cared. I just needed to focus on Papa._

_ "__Fujiin," Papa's voice summoned me, sounding tired. "Have you already gone and left me?"_

_ "__No!" I answered, sprinting to his side, finding him sitting cross legged on his mattress, perfectly straight. He had been meditating again. I grinned, knowing that he couldn't see it. But he could at least sense it. "Can't leave you not knowing the techniques in tossing knives. The thought of it is simply absurd!"_

_Papa laughed, reaching out his hand for mine and I instantly comply. With a soothing gentleness, he strokes the intricate lines on my palms, his dull, grey irises peering beyond what I could ever comprehend. He smiled and let out a playful, "Aha!" As scripted, I feign shock and wonderment, pleading to be told what my daily future read. He chuckled._

_ "__It says here that you…You're going to…cook tonight's dinner!"_

_I groaned, slackening my shoulders. "Ah…Papa…I cooked yesterday," I whined. With a tsk, he wagged his finger, hushing me._

_ "__But," he dragged on. "It is in exchange for a lesson. And what's this?" he stopped his tracing finger at the tip of my wrist, tapping it excitedly. "It is a lesson in…knife throwing it seems."_

_With a victorious whoop, I leapt into the air, then swallowed him up in a hug, planting kisses on his cheek. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" I went off, itching to run in circles, do a cartwheel, do _something_ to commemorate the moment. Papa laughed at my miniature celebration, pushing himself off the creaky mattress, waving away my insistence to aid, as always._

_ "__Child, child," he scolds, still maintaining that rare, wonderful smile. "You need more faith in your old man. I may be blind, but I'm not clumsy. Unlike _some_ people." _

_Rolling my eyes, I lightly punched at his arm to which he evaded and rewarded me with a merciless chop to the head. With an exclamation, I rub the aching spot, going crimson from the lack of defense I put up. I'd always have trouble maintaining alertness after hearing exciting news or getting delightful surprises. It was a habit I needed to work on._

_I prepared for the usual statement that followed my mistakes._

_ "__Never let your guard down, even in the times you find it unnecessary," he and I both recited at the same time. Noting my mocking behavior, he went out and struck at me to which I caught on and avoided with a giggle. Grinning, he reached back out to ruffle my hair and I sweep him away, rolling my eyes._

_ "__Come on, then," he said after ruining my precious locks. "Let's head on out to the 'battlefield' shall we?"_

_I nodded, going giddy at the idea of playing with those ancient blades. Oh how they glistened! So beautiful and positively dangerous! Naomi would freak were she to hear of what I'd learned. Of course, she'd probably throw a fit, hearing I'd chosen knives over her. In any case, I was happy. Mama may have been gone and money may have been short, but at the moment, everything was as it should have been._

* * *

Gracia and I had reached the 'usual place' without a problem. And quite the place it was.

A garden. The Hughes had their own 'private' garden, one of which they'd come across on one of their romantic explorations. They'd stumbled upon a menacing mouth of a hold, somewhere along the abandoned ruins of an alley, and with my reluctant, not quite so eager spirit, Gracia had directed me into the gaping abyss, leaving me to wonder what couples now a days truly found _romantic_.

Omitting the terrifying nightmare for claustrophobics and arachnophobias alike, when I'd been guided into the most horrifyingly darkest pits ever to exist in all of Aerugo and Amestris combined, I was greeted not by the unexpected ghoul of death, but a lovely patch of greenery with flowers adding a marvelous flood of colors and holy light streaming from the crumbling roof. Mists of rain powdered the tips of the grass, leaving the impression of twinkling stars. That is, if stars came out in the day and were actually on the ground. It was truly a wonderland. Something from a fairytale.

The only thing that I wasn't entirely sure was supposed to be there was the lone figure, holding a single rose and prodding around the plants carefully, oblivious to Gracia and I. Her blonde hair was wet, glistening from the dewdrops sliding to the ends. When I'm a hundred percent certain of her identity, I shake my head incredulously, marveling the strange series of coincidences spreading around. First Roy on the train and now Riza in the 'garden'.

"I'm sure you never mentioned going to Central," I speak aloud after telling Gracia how beautiful I found the place. And truly, I meant it.

Riza turns around, slightly surprised by my voice. But she recovers and comes up to me, holding out the rose that I distinctively remember being the one Maes tossed at me.

"I'm sure I never mentioned going anywhere specific," she answers with a smile, offering Gracia a friendly hello. Unlike the previous one, this surprising appearance is almost appreciated and I happily allow Riza in for the company. Curiously, though, I ask what had driven her to come to such a place. She laughs, pointing at the rose in my hand. "I came home to a forest of those," she says, passing Gracia an amused expression, making her blush. "And I knew they seemed oddly familiar. And what with the lack of my guest and her abandoned key," she pauses to cast a mock-scornful look at me to which I nervously chuckled. "I deducted that Misaki had either, a- attempted to run away, or b- been kidnapped by one of the most devious duos I've ever encountered."

Gracia and I pass a glance at one another, breaking into laughter. Riza, shaking her head, eventually joins in.

"So, you figured I'd been kidnapped, hmm?" I ask, taking a whiff of the wondrous aromas circling the massive room. Riza gives a nonchalant, lopsided smile.

"Well, I figured that you had more sense than the Colonel to keep to my rules," she admits. For a second I remember the closet full of her severe gun obsession and shiver.

"Yeah," I say with a twinge of fear. "Wouldn't want to get on your bad side."

She laughs sweetly, throwing a knowing look. "Had yourself a peek on my special collection hmm?" Gracia glances between the two of us, clueless. I flush, turning to act fascinated by some nearby petunias.

"Gracia, these are absolutely lovely," I go off, ignoring Riza's humorous expression. "Did you grow these, yourself?"

She nods, forgetting of the sniper's secretive hoarding problem. Gleefully she engages in a passionate, detailed explanation for how she and Maes had started bringing the place together. Starting off small with the daily visits, noting the emptiness, and deciding how the room would gather just enough sunlight to house some living things, they built up their savings for a variety of seeds. Flowers, grass, even some trees were thriving in this unexpected sanctuary. It truly amazed me how everything the Hughes seemed to touch bloomed with radiant life. Especially Gracia. Her words, her story telling, just the way she played with her vocabulary, it too brought on a reaction in me. Something homely rested with me as she spoke. Riza, taking her spot at my side as she had been the past few days, made me feel warm with the idea of sharing this moment with kind people. The wonderful revelation of not being alone, it was remarkable how much it seemed to cushion these wounds of mine, inside and out.

"…we even tried to make due with some fruit we had. To Maes and my surprise, we came in a few days later to the heavenly sight of peaches, strawberries, apples…"

My mind goes completely haywire and I grab Gracia's wrist with a soft persistence. "E-Eh…?" I mutter unintelligibly. Riza, alarmed, leans forward to read my expression to no avail. Gracia, panicking, went on a chant of concerns, asking what she had said.

"Misaki. What's wrong?" Riza asks.

"Did I say something upsetting?" Gracia follows.

I shake my head, peering into her eyes. Mirroring back is my own pair of sparkling eyes, tainted with the curse of my severe addiction. Anxiety attack or not, I was a fiend when it came to fruit. God, I loved it. Fruit. Fruit. Fruit.

"Did you say peaches and strawberries?" I ask hungrily, earning a couple of relieved sighs and Gracia's delightful laugh. Riza, however, thwacks me gently on the undamaged arm.

"You seriously need to rethink how you react to things," she mutters, trying to remain upset but caving in to my in awe expression.

"Yes," Gracia says through her giggles. "I did." She gets up to her feet, offering a hand to my blindingly cheerful complexion. "Care to sample a few?"

"Would I ever!" I exclaim, jolting up with a newly discovered energy and practically bouncing my way with her to a secluded section. Sure enough, I was not disappointed to see an entire forest of fruit, fruit, glorious fruit! Riza follows close behind and politely asks for an apple before grabbing one. Gracia, noting my restless state, insists I help myself as much as I'd like. She even travels deep inside the holy-like greenery to search for the peaches hidden deep within. Amusingly, Riza too takes a quick adventure inside, rustling through the plants and coming back out with a handful of oranges. I nearly die from happiness at the sight. She tosses me one, to which I easily snatch out of the air. Gracia returns with a couple of juicy looking, succulent, round circles of pure amazingness. I squeal with delight then cover my mouth, horrified. Riza, setting down the piles of fruit, takes the moment to note my reddening cheeks before collapsing in controlled hiccups of laughter. Gracia covers her own mouth shyly, tinging pink with humor. Pretty soon I join with them myself, awkwardly palming the treasures in my grasp.

A week ago, I never would have imagined ever coming across a day such as this. I never would have pictured anything involving my own laughter or the rewarding sounds of others joining with me. I never gave a single thought to finding myself in a beautiful, abandoned place, run by the most elegant plants or, as I took my first bite, stunningly rich flavors of peaches. The world seemed to no longer make sense. My guesses to how life would play out were shattered. My reality was being changed. The dark pits in my heart seemed not as menacing. Perhaps even a little cozy.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't completely shocked by these bursts of elations and comfort. It had only been a few days and already these girls have touched my heart. It's been only a few days and they already have the similar impact on me as my own best friend. How they managed it, dealing with my temper and putting up with my outbursts, I hadn't the faintest clue. But one thing was for sure.

I was entirely grateful.

"Gracia," I beam after a swallowing a mouthful of my third peach. Scattered all around me are samples of oranges, apples, strawberries, more peaches, pears, kiwi, and several other kinds. For a moment, during their little quest to appealing to my incessant cravings, I was slightly disappointed to find a lack of raspberries, but I eventually shrugged it off. It was still a goldmine in here. "This is absolutely…divine."

Riza snorts, gracefully chewing through her own collection, putting me to shame with the juices spilling from my lips. The peaches were that ripe.

"Thank you," Gracia replies, giggling at my attempts to clear my face of the juicy evidence. "I'm so glad that you're eating. And as always, your royal way of talking is absolutely adorable."

I go crimson, finishing the last of the fruit in my hand. Did I really speak that formally? I glance over at Riza, making the act of eating look like an art. How the heck could she manage that?

I shake away the hair from my face, smiling away the comment. I'm curious to know as to how such a run down, abandoned place didn't seem in danger of being demolished or discovered by other wandering couples or adventurers. I relay my thoughts to Gracia to which she laughs angelically.

"Oh, well, Maes and I, after discover this place, realized just how precious it would be for us." She stares up at the hole in the ceiling, reminiscing. I reach for a strawberry. "We knew others would undoubtedly come exploring the area at some point like us, so we thought we'd take some precautions."

"Oh?" I say, biting into the soft texture of the flavorful berry. Unwillingly, my lips curl in satisfaction.

"Yup," she sings, grinning.

"And what were your ways of keeping this place hidden?" I wonder aloud.

"Ghosts."

Riza laughs at my reaction. A strawberry hangs limply at my mouth and I pull it away, blinking with concern.

"Ghosts," I repeat. Gracia nods cheerily. It's not something I would have ever expected her to say. I prod for elaboration.

"Maes and I spread some rumors about the usual stereotypical murders occurring in here and it spread like a wildfire," she answers, holding a hand to her cheek in embarrassment.

"But wouldn't that have…enticed more people to check it out?"

"Oh, we made sure to take care of it." She flashes, to my surprise, a devious grin. Her shoulders shake with a dark laughter and I look to Riza for her reaction. She's calm and composed as ever, raising a brow at my uncertain stare. Normal behavior she seems to hint. This is absolutely normal. Which leaves the question… What did Maes and Gracia do?

I'm eager to ask for more when she turns to Riza, back to her pleasant smile, asking how life has been going for her. For the sake of my sanity and views on the gracious woman, I drop the subject. Instead, I peer back past the chatting girls and at the luminous forest of green they had been scavenging around in. It is then, the third attack of my inner child goes nuts. Bubbles. Fruit. And now a brand new place to go poking around in.

"If you want to go in, I don't mind."

I jump at Gracia's permission, going beet red and gripping that faltering maturity of mine. This would only be a repeat of the bathroom incident. It was embarrassing enough to demonstrate those sloppy feasting manners of mine, but to go around playing hide and seek like some second grader? The thought itself was shameful.

Gracia, noting the war within me, seems to understand. With a firm nod, she agrees with whatever plan she has cooking in her mind and jolts to her feet, looking between Riza and me.

"Riza…" she says, giving the room a quickly look over before squatting to my level and gradually snaking her petite hand around my wrist. Riza gives a quizzical expression, as do I. There's something gleaming in Gracia's eyes, almost playful. With a reassuring glance at my confused face, she grins and suddenly jerks me up in a surprisingly strong grip. "You're it!"

With that, she has me sprinting with her, heart galloping with the thunderous explosion of thoughts running marathons in my brain. What in the world was she doing? What's going on? What are we running? Who's "it"? What?

Quickly we dart into the thickness of her garden, moving around to a snug spot in the middle. She's smiling giddily now, releasing me to try asking what she was planning. But no words fall out since she presses her finger to my lips, amused.

"Don't you know?" she whispers, looking around with intensity. "Hide and tag requires that you _aren't_ found or caught."

I look at her, blinking at her face fighting a wave of giggles. For a second I'm going straight to the "she's crazy" accusations, but then recall my own want to do something like this. Something from my childhood. I remember Naomi and the local boys playing a game like this at some points. I'd always been spending time with Papa, skipping the games and going to the fights and training sessions. But a part of me always wondered why hiding around and being chased was considerably fun. I'd always thought that when you hid and were found, you were supposed to jump kick your pursuer to the throat. That was just the way I was raised. Pride kept me from games. But years later, here's Gracia, pulling me into the midst of a memory. A memory of something I longed to be a part of. A golden opportunity.

And who was I to decline this?

"But," I whisper back, picturing Riza's professional behavior and precise actions. "Are you certain that Riza is the type to-"

"Found you."

I spun around just in the nick of time to roll from Riza's lunge. She recovers instantly, watching me with a fiery determination and Gracia squeals with mock fear, sprinting away in a trail of giggles. Riza passes a single glance at our companion before coming to the decision of having me as her prey. With a yowl of complete non-Riza excitement, she comes after me and I dodge away, feeling the rush of adrenaline pounding through my veins. Noting the good chances of losing her by going through the thickest of the plants, I sprint away, losing her in the dust, breathing heavily when I had reached a suitable, safe zone. I had the speed factor in my favor, but Riza, man, being the sniper, had the stealthy pros on her table. I could not pick up any sound. I didn't even notice when she'd snuck up behind Gracia and I. She's a skillful one, that girl.

Whoa. This was intense.

I'm about ready to beat my heart senseless due to the loud racket it appears to be making when I hear the smallest of rustles. Alarmingly, I pop back into a defensive crouch, saying to myself "it's just a game" "just a game" "games can't hurt you." Well, in my mind. Not aloud. Because Riza scares the absolute crap out of me. Especially now where I can't see or hear her.

So this was what it was like. A game of fear and adrenaline and chasing people like madmen.

My god. This was…this was so thrilling!

There's a scream and I life my head in alarm. Gracia. Had something happened? Was she alright? Intruders?

I recall her earlier statement.

_G-Ghosts_?

No, don't be ridiculous. Why the hell would I even think that? There were no such things as ghosts.

But matters aside! I had to find her and see if she was alright!

In a dash, I stumble my way out of the thicket and find a patch of light brown hair sticking out in the midst of a nearby patch of flowers.

"Gracia!" I yell, running to her, falling at her side. "Are you alright?"

She turns to me, looking weary and nods with a weak smile. "Yes. I'm fine."

I sigh in relief until someone behind me shouts a warning: "I'm not 'it' anymore, doofus!"

"Wah?" I say craning to catch Riza laughing and slapping a hand dramatically across her forehead. It's come to me what she means and as I turn back to the sneering Gracia, her hand casually pokes at my nose and the words tumble out in a song.

"You're it!"

Then with that, she scrambles off in the distance, laughing maniacally, leaving me in the agonizingly slow process of realizing what I had to do. I was it. "It", meaning the chaser.

I turn back to look at Riza who has a disapproving look on her face. She shakes her head, wagging her finger, and scolding. "Oh no," she chuckles, walking back into the sea of plants. "You can try, but you'll never catch me."

My first target. Yay!

"We'll see about that," I say with a toying leer, taking no time to hesitate as she turns and bolts for escape. Somewhere afar, Gracia cackles with a mocking victory. "Gracia! I'll be sure to get you back, too!" I yell, weaving through the tangles of vines and leaves hitting my skin like soft pillows. Riza the sniper, barely leaves anything behind for me to use to my benefit.

I was chasing an Amestris military official in a game of hide and tag in the midst of a place Gracia and Maes went around with the rumors of it being haunted. And despite how weird that sounded, I didn't really care. This was _fun_.

Fun, but actually really challenging!

Several minutes pass by without luck and I begin to rethink my approach. No reason to run around wasting my stamina. Speed was my only real advantage here. Riza was quick but not significantly compared to me. Her strength was the talent to sneak around. As for Gracia…well other than playing with the hearts of others and tricking into trusting, I hadn't a clue. But she was just as difficult to find!

I mistakenly believed this was going to be a breeze. Gee, if I had my alchemy I could just blow away all these obstacles and hunt Riza down with a simple sprint. Ah, but that would be cheating. I think.

Sighing, I stop in my tracks, shutting away my vision and focusing on only sound. Concentrate. Got to concentrate.

Footsteps.

My eyes snap open and I smile to myself. Got you.

In a heartbeat I'm out and upon the unfortunate hider, certain it to be Riza. Joyfully I latch on to her shoulders from behind, taking care to whisper snidely, "Now you're it."

But something was wrong. And that something was that Riza did not have broad shoulder like this. She didn't have black, scraggly hair. She didn't have a muscular figure quite like this. And she certainly wasn't this tall…

_Oh god dammit all. _

Just as quickly as I'd come, I leapt away and back into my hiding place, quenching my strong need to scream with frustration. Again. _Again_. _Freaking again_.

"Oh?" Maes' voice calls from where I'd unleashed my ridiculous attack. He sounds amused and I distinguish his steps, falling back and away from Roy. "Colonel's it!" he suddenly exclaims, running for cover.

I can't help it. Oh man. I hated Roy, but Maes' reaction… Oh man. Too much.

I held my stomach, laughing up a fearsome storm.

Another chuckle rang out, joining my fit. When I tag who it belongs to, I spring back a few feet to avoid a pair of strong hands making a grab out at me. Sinisterly, Roy smirks, crack his knuckles and watching me as if I were a tasty meal.

Okay. The thought wasn't exactly appealing.

"I'm it you say?" he says under his breath, widening the smirk and taking a step forward. I maintain my ground, erasing away the giggling fit. Confusion wells within me and I'm not quite certain what to do. On one hand I hated his guts. On the other- whoa!

He rushes at me and I sloppily tuck and roll to the side, ensnared by the loose stems of some indistinguishable plant. Absurdly I curse the stupid thing, giving it an angry kick for leaving me down and exposed like this. When I escape the clutches of it, I rise to my feet and brush away grass stains, looking up to witness the Colonel's finger ever so lightly poke my forehead.

"Looks like you're it now, _Bubbles_."

He says the last thing with emphasis which really, really bugs me. I want to beat the man to a bloody pulp but before I do so, he tucks tail and runs off like a coward, leaving me in the dust.

Screw playing nice. This will be the bastard's final game.


	14. Fun and Games

It all comes down to this. For what feels like hours we've been playing and it all falls down to the grand finale.

Amount of tags received:

Maes- 4 Riza-2 Gracia-7 Roy-47 Me-47

It shames me to think I was really keeping count, but I was fired up. I was eager to end this. It was the final countdown to victory. This battle would be won by none other than me. The Colonel would perish.

"Who's it?" Gracia shouts from far off. She isn't my main objective. I'd already pinned her three times. I always kept a promise at revenge.

"Roy?" Maes rings out, scrambling at a noise that gave away his closeness. I don't really care for him at the moment.

"No, no," Riza denies from the opposite side of the room. "It's Misaki."

A pair of voices chuckle and I recognize them to belong to the Hughes.

"Did you get her, Riza?" they shout, irritating me with their idle chit chat, like they were waving a pack of steak in front of my face and expecting me to not bite.

"No!" she replies.

"Well it wasn't us either!" they admit.

"Come on. I'm the only one here who's been catching her."

There!

It was behind me, to the right, approximately seven feet away. But I had to think this through. This could be a trap. He could be waiting for me. The devil was crafty, I hated to admit.

"Oh right! You guys make this boring! Stop going for each other like a married couple!"

Freaking Maes.

"WE ARE NOT A GOD DAMN COUPLE!" I scream and curse myself for my idiotic pride. I'd given away my position and Roy was already on the move, chuckling and cackling his way to safety. Angrily I take off, hot on his trail, or so I thought.

Accidentally, for the second time, I tag someone I wasn't aiming for.

"Oops! Looks like you got me, now I'm just going to have to avoid you and Roy for a while until you learn to include everyone!"

Furiously, I glare at Maes, giggling like a school girl, demanding that he go off and target only the Colonel. In reply, he leaps around me, tossing a childishly dirty face, and takes off in search of Riza or his beloved. I crumble to my knees, cursing whoever invented the idea of misdirection. From beside me, a figure crouches and notes my defeated fit with a humored chuckle.

I really wish looks could kill.

"Shut-up," I hiss, getting up.

"You almost had me, Bubbles," he teases, laying down to gaze up at me, breathing heavily.

"Misaki," I correct. The sight of him being tired, at least, it sort of makes me feel a little better about the whole thing. My body was in far better shape than his. Where he wasted away his stamina, I felt fit as a fiddle. That alone could serve enough to say, I was far better than him.

"Where does that put us?" he asks, closing his eyes. "We tied up? The two of us?"

I didn't like how he pairs us up as a "we". I'm still fuming about Maes' earlier outburst. Roy's nonchalant speech only peeves me off more.

"A bit old aren't you? To be playing something like this?" he says, flashing a sneer. I narrow my eyes, huffing irritably.

"You made sure to continue it," I point out. He laughs, saying that he guessed that was fair enough. I'm debating whether or not to take off when Roy insists I hang around for a bit. "And why would I do that?" I grumble. He shrugs.

"Hughes isn't going to come for us for a while. They'll never catch the Lieutenant. So we're pretty much stuck here until they decide we're worth bringing back."

He's right, I'm sure, but it still doesn't mean that I'm happy with the idea of lingering around this close to him. The rain had finally ceased yet I could make out the remaining flecks of water in his hair. His eyes had closed in bliss, exhausted from running around recklessly. The sun streamed in through the roof and fell across his face which was more relaxed, probably from the fact his much hated weather had changed for the better. From afar, the Hughes were squealing and running energetically and I imagined Riza coping with the childishness. Probably hidden somewhere with thoughts of wanting to go home and do something more productive.

"How is your shoulder holding up?"

I've just now realized I haven't moved. With a sigh, I find myself sitting back down next to him, drawing my knees to my chest. "Fine," I respond, gruffly. He peels open his eyes to take in my closeness, smiling, then puts his arm across his gaze to block out the sun's powerful rays. "What?" I ask bitterly, unable to stop from noting his content expression.

"Nothing," he says, continuing to smile. I drop it, exhaling heatedly through my nose and shutting my own eyes. What a weirdo.

We stay like that for a while, me sitting, he lying motionless, relaxing under the heated blanket of summer. With the 'garden' surrounding us on all sides, I could almost forget we were in Central City. Maes and Gracia were fooling around, keeping the atmosphere light and cheery. Living creatures tweet and chirp, flying around in search of cool places to nest. From high above, I can hear the softest cries of the wind. It's lulling. I'm tempted to fall asleep.

"Do you miss it?"

I look at the Colonel questioningly. He blinks up at me, serious.

"Miss what?" I ask.

Gracia screams in delight. Maes shouts comments too romantic for me to recite.

"You know," Roy answers and I swallow. He's asking whether I miss the palace. Life beyond the city. It'd almost slipped my mind what he knew about me. To him I was simply a survivor from Aerugo, a witness from one of the bloodiest events in history. Of course he'd want to hear something related to the incident.

"No," I say bluntly. "I don't."

He says nothing and we go back to being quiet. Maes has other plans, though. In the middle of our break, he bursts into our space, a bored expression in place. Once he sees how the two of us are beside each other, he immediately lights up and I shoot a warning glare. The man is too daft to get the message.

"Lookie here~~"

Roy jerks to a seated position, reaching out to his friend, smacking him upside the head. The hit must have been harder than it looked because Maes was suddenly on the ground, laughing up at an irritated Colonel. Behind me, two others appear, taking seats at my sides. Gracia is gasping yet maintaining her beaming face. Riza, showing absolutely no signs of ever running around in the first place, eyes the Colonel and Maes with a hidden impatience. The woman. I would never understand how she manages to stay sane.

"Everything ok?" I ask Gracia. She nods tiredly.

"Yes, just a bit…out of it…" she breathes and Riza bobs her head agreeably. "We're not quite as…young anymore…"

Well that's complete nonsense. How old was she? _Twenty_?

"I highly doubt that," I say, smiling. A chain reaction then takes place. Maes recovers from Roy's blow, rolling up to a seated posture. He grins at Roy. Roy whips his head away in irritation. Riza rolls her eyes at his behavior. Gracia giggles at the sniper's attitude. I beam at Gracia's chipper mood. It seems as though everyone has a part to play in influencing each other's spirits. It's nice being a part of the connection. Today, omitting the Colonel Bastard's irksome personality, was a relatively fun day. Only, seeing as how everyone was out of it, what would happen next?

Maes, ever the mind reader, snaps to his feet and takes off without an explanation. Looking confusingly at Riza, she shrugs. Roy trains his gaze on me and it's like a furnace.

"Don't you have better things to do rather than harass me with your eyes?" I ask in a dark voice. Gracia tenses next to me, biting her lip. Riza listens intently. Roy tosses a crude expression, opening his mouth to say something, but surprises me by letting out a huge, insulting gag of a laugh. Then he avoids my heating glare. Rude much?

When Maes returns, he's holding a bundle of champagne glasses and a bottle of what appeared to be alcohol. It's almost intimidating how real the bottle looks. I'm in the middle of constructing a flimsy lie to avoid having my throat exposed to such a poison when Roy assures me it's only sparkling grape juice. I'd never heard of such a thing but didn't dare to reveal this to him, so I toss an ungrateful scowl. He smiles slyly before answering Maes with a grunt of refusal in assisting him. Gracia claps her hands together excitedly, leaning against me. The weight is practically non-existent and I brighten at her comfortableness to be next to me. On the other end, Riza passes the occasional glimpse, secretly smiling at Gracia and I's sudden closeness. I wonder if this is what it would be like, having a sister.

"Don't be shy~~" Maes goes into song, passing along the glasses and making sure to smack Roy playfully before handing him his. "Let's enjoy our time together!" With an unpleased glare, Roy scoots his way towards me and away from the flailing limbs of our dear provider who was undergoing a complete mental breakdown. Grimacing, I flash a warning to him, not wanting to move from where I was, since I was actually quite comfortable chilling with Gracia. He takes the message with an unwavering expression, stopping only a few feet away in front of me at an angle to ensure his usual peeping. When Riza shifts beside me, I see that her hand has lifted from her holstered gun (which again, I failed to notice for a while) and I know that's the only reason the Colonel hadn't squished his way into my space. The gesture is sweet, I guess, but a bit frightening. It had its pros and cons, being acquainted with a sniper.

Liquid splashes into my cup and I yelp in alarm. Either I was really horrible at being aware of my surroundings, or Maes was some ridiculous assassin when we weren't looking at him twenty four seven.

Inside, bubbles float to the top and I find myself looking nervously at Roy, who of course, caught onto my fears. He raises his glass mockingly into the air, raising a brow smugly. Abruptly I snap away, startling Gracia. She pulls away, leaving me longing for her contact once more, blinking curiously at me. Fumbling for composure, I slosh back the drink, wincing at its unexpected kick. Maes crows in approval.

"And the games begin!~~"

Roy smirks, sipping properly at his own, preparing for an insulting comment. Ignoring him, I gaze at Maes quizzically. "I beg your pardon?" I hoarsely ask, clearing my stinging throat. Some non-alcoholic beverage. It still had quite a kick, fizzing its way up and down my body. I couldn't imagine how an actual drink would feel going down my throat.

"Drinking match!" he yells energetically, refilling my glass which I unconsciously stuck out. I watch the contents dribble, swishing it with fascination. "One to drink the most within the next five minutes, wins!"

"W-Wait," I say, at first in argument to my early dive into the first glass. I realize just how absurd my reason for speaking out was, rubbing at my temple and watching the ground sway slightly. Such a stupid game to be playing with what could be called virgin-juice. "Why would we have a contest with grape juice?"

Riza makes a noise between a curse and a command, snatching away my drink. Stunned, I eye her questionably, tilting my head to ease the movement going around me.

"What?" I ask and Riza passes a strong, disapproving leer at Maes.

"What are you doing, giving her alcohol?" she demands, pouring out the fizzing liquid in nearby grass. That's right, she didn't hear my lame excuse of a lie concerning my age. She was the only one who was aware of my true youth.

Wait. I thought…

I look at Roy accusingly. He doesn't even hide his mischievous grin.

"You son of a bitch," I mutter, already going fuzzy. First time drinking and I'm already getting hammered? Was that the right term? Buzzed? I didn't even know. I felt gross.

Maes and Gracia exchange lost expressions and Riza explodes, unleashing her wrath in severe parental form.

"Not only is she under aged, but haven't you noticed she isn't in the best of conditions to deal with anything that risks straining her stomach?" she scolds, growing colder with every thundering syllable. "It's fine that you took her out, but this is completely ridiculous!"

Maes extend his palms out pleadingly. "She's twenty-three, I thought. That's perfectly legal! And besides, she seems to be fine-"

"_What_?" Riza hisses, now facing me. I cringe under her mighty glare. "You told them you were _twenty-three_?"

I wasn't a particular fan of being yelled at, so I weakly answer an innocent squeak. "What?"

Riza groans with frustration, turning back to cast her searing gaze through Maes and Gracia. Gracia, who was now on the border of passing out from the explosion of questions pounding in her brain, was watching me helplessly. I bit back a wave of guilt, cowering under Riza's sudden rage. It wasn't that big of a deal. Just one glass. It's impossible to get over the top drunk from such a small portion, right?

"You two actually bought this?" she goes off again, pointing at me. "Does she look twenty-three to you?"

They sheepishly shake their heads no. Meanwhile Roy, fighting his own personal war of laughter, let out a dangerous snort and Riza was swiveling towards him.

"And _you_, sir," she hisses, dropping the temperature. "You knew she was lying, isn't that right? Thought you could cast a harmless, childish prank like this? Getting a minor drunk for the heck of it?" she shakes her head disgustingly. "Act your age, sir, not your IQ."

Maes, who had sneaked his own sip of his drink during Riza's lecture, spit out in surprise, falling victim to his relentless humor. Gracia hiccups with soft giggles, trying not to draw the Lieutenant's attention. I feel the corners of my mouth start to quiver amusingly. Roy has his jaw down to his knees and his cheeks are going tomato red.

"L-Lieutenant," he says, aware of everyone enjoying the scene. He settles his attention on me, noting my straining composure with a burning hatred. I didn't really mind at the moment. "That's-"

"I'd appreciate it if you could actually use that brain of yours for more useful matters, sir," she continues. It's hit after hit after hit from here. Maintaining her professional tone only seems to make it worse for the Colonel. The added "sir" at the end acts as a hard punch to his dignity. It's nice to see him squirm under humiliation rather than myself.

"Wait," Gracia whispers from behind me, seeking only my response. "If you aren't twenty-three, then how old _are_ you?"

I'm happy she doesn't seem too terribly upset about my fib, but I'm also not too keen on revealing my true age. However, the girl did deserve some information to go off on. I suppose.

"What's today?" I ask timidly, hoping I could at least add another year to my youth.

"It's somewhere around July," she answers and I sigh with disappointment. Riza is still going off on a pride crunching spree, ignoring each attempt by Roy to speak. The episode distracts Maes enough to make this somewhat of a private conversation. If Riza already knew, it wouldn't kill to tell Gracia.

"Uh," I start smartly, scratching at my jaw. "I'm…nineteen…"

"I'm sorry," Gracia says politely, smiling. "I couldn't quite hear you. It sounded like you said you were nineteen."

"I…I did," I mutter, flushing.

Gracia goes pale, blinking at me.

"Wh-WHAT?!" she exclaims and I jump at her outburst. "N-NINETEEN?!"

Maes, drawn now to his wife, goes wide with shock. "She's nineteen?!" he repeats as I cover my face in embarrassment. What was so surprising about me being nineteen? Didn't they think I was sixteen? So I was a few more years above their expectations, so what?

Even Roy looks completely baffled. But he had been the one who figured I'd been lying right off the bat!

"What are _you_ so surprised about?" Riza asks sharply, picking up on my confusion.

"I thought she was…" he trails off, muffled by the sounds of Maes running up to me and peering into my face. I jolt back in defense, watching Gracia with a questioning look, but she too is regarding my features with intense intrigue.

"Wh-What are you two doing?" I ask, crawling back for more room. The two shake in disbelief.

"No way. You can't be nineteen…" Maes murmurs and I feel my veins throb.

"Wait just a minute," I point out, raising my voice, "Didn't you two think I was sixteen?"

Gracia nods, biting her bottom lip in thought. "Yes, but well… I mean nineteen is completely different…"

"I had you two convinced I was twenty-three!" I yell with slight irritation. It was one thing convincing them of such a weak lie, but another to catch them off guard with an age settling between their guess and my fib. For goodness sake!

"...twenty-five or something!"

I turn to face Roy, unsure I had heard him correctly. T-Twenty five?

"Eh?" I address, glancing between Riza and him for signs of a joke. "Seriously? You thought I was…_older_ than what I claimed?"

"It's a common mistake," he snaps defensively. "Most girls choose to settle for a younger age. I simply thought you were another one of those girls."

Ok, that really, really pisses me off.

"One of those girls? You compared me to 'one of those girls'?! Are you freaking serious? Do you hear how much an ass you are?"

Riza groans in exhaustion, closing her eyes.

"She does have a point," Maes supports, nodding like it were obvious.

"It's not my fa-" Roy starts but I cut him off.

"How the hell could you have mistaken me for being _twenty-five_?"

"Like I sa-"

"Did you not figure I was maybe avoiding the alcohol in the train car because I was _under aged_? I mean why were you making such a big deal to treat me to having a hard drink when I made it obvious that I did not care for one? Also, the Hughes thought I was sixteen, so you'd think that you'd have a bit more sense than to note me as being _older_."

"H-"

"How much of a moron could you be?"

"Hey…" Roy says quietly, brow twitching. "Why…Why is it when I talk, you or the Lieutenant always seem to interrupt me?"

Riza and I look at one another before answering in unison:

"Because you're an idiot, sir."

I didn't tag in the "sir" part, but I may as well have.

"Umm…" Gracia starts up again, calling back for me. "Are you…feeling alright?"

"Huh?" I eye her confusingly, checking myself for any standing out wounds. Did I look pale? Was I feeling queasy? No…

"This was your first time drinking right?" she asks worriedly. "You drank awfully fast…"

Maes clasps me on the back, laughing. "Yeah. That could prove why we were so shocked, seeing you down that glass like it was nothing!"

"Th-That's right," Roy perks up, thinking this to be his chance at reclaiming his pride. "Easy mis-"

"Shut-up," I say without looking at him. He grumbles inaudibly, earning more complaints from the wise and wonderful Lieutenant.

I guess when I reflect on it, I _was_ feeling rather funny. My throat tickles and my fingers are a little shaky. But there was nothing concerning about that, probably.

"I'm all good," I reassure Gracia. Then I turn to Maes, peeling away from his touch. "It really wasn't that strong though. I don't see why it's such a big deal."

"No, this stuff is pretty powerful," Maes says, jogging over to pick up the bottle. Gracia nods agreeably. "Even Roy over there can't chug a glass in one go like you just did."

"Really…?" I reply, temporarily giddy at the thought of out besting him. Then again, I was besting him at something so stupid like drinking, so I dismiss the thought repulsively.

"If it's really your first time," Maes continues, implying something I didn't really approve of, "Then you should be getting at least a buzz right now."

Ah, so it _was_ called a buzz. Glad to hear that I was right about that. I guess.

"I was a little dizzy at first, but I'm fine now," I say, randomly thinking that if Roy thought I was older, that would explain his immature, sexual comments. Thank goodness. Perhaps it was over now.

"Interesting…" Maes says to himself, humming.

"I'm glad that nothing went wrong," Gracia says, relieved. She seems to be stressing over the fact of allowing a minor to drink an apparently hard-core beverage. Personally, I didn't think it was something anyone should freak out over, this much.

"What's the harm anyways?" I hear Roy shouting at Riza, tossing his arms around dramatically. "She's _fine_. You heard her, yourself."

"Yes," Riza sighs, clearly fed up with him as we all were. "But she could just be saying that."

"I'm not," I say, finding I had to defend my new found sturdiness against alcohol consumption.

"The girl is a warrior," Roy says in a way to sound like a compliment. One that I don't take too kindly.

"Keep your attempts at flattery to yourself, Colonel," I spit. He throws his hands up in exasperation.

"I'm only complimenting-"

"Hey Misaki," Maes interrupts, driving Roy to rant on about his lack of respect. "Let's perform an experiment~~"

Gracia suddenly looks weary, flickering between stopping him from speaking now or wait and listen.

"Ex-Experiment?" I ask, blankly. He nods, pouring another glass full of the drink and handing it to me.

"Let's see how much you can take!"

Gracia swipes it away, speaking on the same level as Riza. "No."

Honestly, I couldn't care less now that we were in the thick of things.

"Gracia dear," he pleads, making for the glass and missing. "But aren't you curious to see how much this girl can take? Perhaps she's some sort of hero sent to us to help deal with the crimes in Central!"

"Honey," she coos, ruffling his hair lovingly. "I love you, but that's perhaps the dumbest thing you've ever said."

"Oh, ho," Roy mumbles. "I beg to differ."

"Yes, yes," I say with a hiccup. "Because everything _you_ say is already tainted with stupidity."

"You-"

"Gracia, honestly I don't see how having another one would hurt," I try coaxing, listening to the flood of curses the Colonel was unleashing. "Oh, I'm sorry," I say, glancing back at him. "Were you saying something?"

"I-"

"No, no," Gracia insists, holding the drink closer. "It's probably best if we kept your drinking experience to a minimum, and you've maxed out."

"Why do I even bother?" Roy fumes which everyone makes sure to ignore.

"I see..." I reply, feigning disappointment. Sure I didn't want anything to do with getting wasted and such _now_, but what about later in the near future? I'd have to wait a whole nother' year! Besides... I _was_ a bit curious as to how much I could take…

With a scorching glare and some inexplainable telepathic powers, Riza pops me on the forehead. "H-Hey?" I stammer, rubbing the aching spot.

"No alcohol. Period," she commands. I nod quickly, very aware of how easily she could access her gun. She could be a very convincing lady when she wanted to be. One chat with Riza and drinking was completely out of the ring.

"Yes. Listen to your elders," Roy adds.

I take the nearest item, which happens to be an apple, and chunk it at his head. I may not have a lot of strength, but I still had a killer arm and amazing accuracy. So suck on that, _Colonel Bastard_.

Riza makes sure to it that Roy doesn't start an all-out war with me. Lucky for him. Meanwhile, Maes starts to put away the alcohol in a noticeable slump. After avoiding the wrath of Riza, Roy barks at his friend, demanding to know why he was taking away the goods.

"We're not going to leave out Misaki," he says and Gracia nods. Even Riza gives a single head bob in approval. Roy, however, did not think this to be a reasonable excuse. Much to my displeasure, I agree with him.

"What, it's not like she's going to care," he complains. I roll my eyes.

"Go on, give the toddler his drink. I don't mind," I say, cocking my head sweetly at his steaming expression. "Hurry before he starts bitching again."

For some weird reason, when the curse words falls out and I look at Gracia's innocent face, I feel really, really guilty and terrible. So much to a point that I apologize to her. And I don't understand why. Was I going soft?

"Give them back to me, Lieutenant. That's an order."

Riza is holding a pair of the Colonel's gloves that he apparently had pulled out after my insult. His hand is extended out, waiting for her to obey, which she doesn't and my admiration for her increases. Rather than heel, she'd tame her own master when need may be. Now _that's_ a Lieutenant.

"I'll give them back when you calm down, sir," she says.

"You'll give them back now," he snaps, making a grab for them and missing terribly.

"You heard her, Colonel," I say snidely, placing my chin in my palm. "When you finish your little tantrum, you'll get your gloves back."

I smirk at his murderous scowl, easily evading the apple I had thrown before. "Your throwing skills are a bit lacking. Are you only ever useful when you're dry and with your accessories?"

"Ok!" Gracia says loudly, straining for calamity. "How about we play a game?"

"_Another_ one?" Riza asks, clearly done for the day and maybe for life. Gracia shrugs, looking at her husband for help. He takes in her call for help with grave seriousness, pouting his lips in concentration.

"The only games interested in involve beating up that loudmouth of a girl over there," Roy scoffs and I laugh tauntingly.

"Oh, _good one_. I'm really feeling that burn." For good measure, I rub my arm in mock pain, enjoying the clenching of his jaw. "S'matter? You want Riza to give you your gloves? Have you learned your lesson to not play with fire?"

"You have no hope of making allies with that hideous mouth of yours…" Roy struggles to speak, breathing heavily. "I'm just going to have to burn off that tongue…"

"Colonel…" Riza warns and Roy eyes her incredulously.

"_Are you serious_?" he rants, gesturing towards me sitting with chin held high. "You get onto me about this but not _her_?"

"You're at a higher ranking. This sort of behavior is completely unacceptable for someone of your status," she answers sternly.

"Pretty sad that your Lieutenant has to remind you," I add, wiping away the dirt from the apple which wasn't too terribly bruised. "Do you have _any_ sense of responsibility?" I take a bite, savoring the sourness.

"Shut it, Bubbles."

Literally, I spit pieces of apple at him, frowning at his disgusted reaction.

"Let's take a lesson, again, shall we?" I hiss. "My name? Misaki. Mi-Sa-Ki. Let's say it together now, class. Miiii saaaaa kiiii. Get it right, mule."

Roy laughs bitterly, backing down for my victory. Gracia, interested by the recent topic pulls on my sleeve gently.

"I've been meaning to ask you back on the train," she says, deprived of her earlier hysteria. "Why does he call you Bubbles?"

The world seems to go completely still and I begin to sweat uncontrollably. I can't even bear to bring myself to check up on _his_ expression because I have a good idea of how he's taking her question. Luckily, Maes is still in the thick of brainstorming party games to do in the abandoned building, and Riza already had her guesses as to what happened that day. But this was Gracia and I really didn't wa-

"Oh! That's a story to tell," Roy says, recovering from his fit. Was this his ammunition? Was this his way of ruining my pride and dignity?

"Aha!" I exclaim, tugging Gracia to face me and only me. "But it's stupid. And long, oh so terribly long. Not to mention boring."

"Oh, Bubbles-"

"Misaki."

"-I must disagree with you. This is a wonderful story. It's absolutely '_splashing'_."

"Don't you mean smashing?" Riza asks and I shoot her an unappreciative expression.

"Sure," Roy replies, sneering at my enraged self. Damn you…

"Oh," Gracia says timidly, realizing the quarrel she had just provoked. "Actually, it's fine… Never mind." She laughs weakly and Maes thumps his fist against his palm.

"Let's get to know Misaki a little better," Maes says, completely oblivious to the tension going on. Roy, feeling his moment at humiliating me disappearing, tries desperately to redirect his friend's attention to the matter at hand, but he's too caught up with his idea and I'm safe. For now.

He flashes a look that says 'I'll get you next time.'

"Misaki," Maes addresses, coming up to sit directly in front of me. "Would you mind if we ask you some questions?"

A problem is solved and another comes forward, that sounds about right. I really didn't like the idea of sharing information from my side, no matter how wonderful some of these people may be.

"You are entitled to ask us questions too," he adds hopefully, watching me fidget under his request. "And…And you don't have to answer everything. Only what makes you comfortable."

Better. I suppose with the freedom to decline answering sensitive subjects, a round of Q and A may not be too horrific. I would need to be careful about my responses though.

"How about depending on how private your answer may be, we'll each answer a question on the same level of intensity or lower," Riza continues, pocketing the Colonel's gloves which he clearly saw.

"L-Lieutenant…"

"Oh, and since there's more of us, she should be obligated more turns," Gracia suggests with a rewarding smile from me. "Only, of course, if you don't mind…"

Well, when Gracia puts it like that…Could it really hurt? What did I have to lose anyways?

"Sounds good to me," I say reluctantly. The Hughes grin appreciatively and Riza hints interest. Roy, finally past his glove scenario, feigns boredom, but something like relief glints in his eyes and I'm noticing how much he's been wanting to learn about me. Supposedly, in their shoes, I _was_ a bit mysterious.

But did that mean the Colonel had to ask me things too?

"All right," I say, suddenly nervous. "How exactly does this work?"

Maes settles comfortably on the ground, glancing between everyone. "How about we'll alternate. Riza than you, me than you, Gracia than you, and finally… Roy. That is, only if you're ok with him bugging you."

"That's fine," I say. Maes did say I could ignore questions. Why not just completely blow off the Colonel's attempt of asking stupid things?

"Ok," Maes says, grinning. "Now if Riza could kindly start us off?"


	15. Fondness & Faults

_"__Oh my gosh, that couldn't have gone any worse."_

_ "__What are you complaining about? I was the one who nearly had my ear torn off!"_

_Naomi giggled, scratching at her head sheepishly. "Right, right. I guess I never was really in any danger huh?"_

_ "__None at all," I grumbled._

_We stood together on the rooftop, hands clasped on knees, trying to catch our breaths. Naomi had the biggest grin on her face while I struggled to wipe away the scene that had just unraveled. After my emotional breakdown with the note, Naomi had indeed stuck with her plans to torment her victims of the day. Himayo was easy enough to find and pelt with buckets of horse piss (long story I care to not retell…). Never quite the brightest one of the bunch, she had thrown a series of very, very powerful curse words that left us rolling down the alley, laughing our rears off. She couldn't even pursue us. No risks in our harmless prank, only a memorable moment of watching our much hated teacher drown in wonderful filth. However, once we went after our next target, Jahlil, things got a little messy. Who would have guessed Himayo would suspect him first and end up chasing after him at the same time we did?_

_ "__Did you see his face?" Naomi cackled, wincing under my unappreciative glare. Thanks to her brilliant suggestions of having me deal the ultra-punch to Jahlil's ridiculous ego, I barely managed to flee with only a scraped knee and an aching ear._

_But I supposed the reaction from our victim was seemingly priceless. Never would have thought a measly downpour of syrup and feathers could drive a boy to tears._

_ "__What a pansy," Naomi noted amusingly. She took another look at my frowning expression and punched me in the shoulder playfully. "Oh c'mon K. Admit it. It was worth it."_

_ "__Absolutely not," I answered, failing to conceal a chuckle. "Stop it. You're the worst, Nao. You'll be the death of me, I swear."_

_She bowed mockingly. "Thank you. Thank you very much."_

_I shook my head humorously. Such a troublesome child, but I did suppose getting into trouble beat sobbing in the dark pits of an alley. With a yawn and a stretch, I peered over to the marketplace below, bustling with some sort of special festivity. Naomi followed my gaze and let out a sudden exclamation. _

_ "__Oh crap on a stick!" She smacks her forehead loudly, staring at me with panic-driven eyes. "My mom is going to have a cow and sell me to the chop shop."_

_ "__Nao," I said, rubbing at my temple. Her senseless comments were riddles I wasn't willing to solve at the moment. "Intelligence. Use it."_

_She rolled her eyes as though I were the idiotic babbler._

_ "__The Festival? The, as in capital 'T'. That one festival the palace puts out in honor for the Prince? Yeah, apparently it's today and I completely forgot thanks to you!"_

_ "__M-Me?" I stammered. "How the hell is this my fault?"_

_ "__The friendship code demands for me to ensure you are happy and taken care of," she fumed, wagging her finger threateningly. "So I had to deal with reviving you from the dead and thanks to you taking up my time, my mother is going to realize that I'm not at home right now with those special cakes they sell only today!"_

_I blankly gawked at her, tempted to throw her off the building. _

_ "__You lost me at 'I don't really care'," I said, crossing my arms impatiently. Naomi groaned, grabbed my shoulders, and began to shake me violently._

_ "__Those cakes. They are my ticket. To surviving. Life. Get the picture?" _

_ "__Yes, yes," I mumbled, pushing her off. "I got you. Mom will be pissed. You gotta go. Now."_

_She nodded at my understanding, not bothering to move._

_ "__Nao?"_

_ "__Yes?" she responded, looking down at the colorful shades fluttering in the easy breeze. _

_ "__Cake? Eternal damnation? Mom?" _

_Her face paled and she seemed to regain her senses. "Right! Uh…Catch you later, K!" She took off across the buildings, leaping her way down to the ground and mixing in with the hectic crowds. When she disappeared, I sighed at her tendency to go from admirable friend to worst person to go to for things involving responsibility._

_Honestly._

_ "__Raspberries! Get your fresh and juicy raspberries!"_

_I perked up, going motionless. Crying had been quite straining on my system. Didn't one normally eat to regenerate energy from such tiring emotions? Yes, yes, I believed so. Naomi had gone off to tend to her mother's cake addiction so it was official me time. In other words, time to haggle the friendly sellers._

_ "__Come and get your delicious raspberries! Freshly picked!"_

_Well, if he was going to be so welcoming about it, I'd be sure not to disappoint the man. With a hidden smile of giddiness, I started in the direction Naomi had sprinted off, thinking of all the ways I could convince her mother to make some of that special raspberry jam or pie. Maybe I'd scour around the area for some noteworthy potatoes for Papa since he loved himself a mean potato soup. Training was hard work on the man despite his fitness. He was entitled to some sort of pleasant surprise, since obviously that "devil woman" wasn't going to do anything for the family anymore. _

_I grunted as I hit the floor of an alley, brushing off imaginary dust particles. With a sigh, I made my trip to the fruit stand, recalling how long it had been since I called that pathetic excuse of a parent, Mama. What, two years? Maybe longer? She'd gone completely nuts around the time I mentioned my desire to become a knight. Just what was the secret behind her abandonment?_

_Whatever it may be, I hated the beast. She destroyed Papa, my respect, and our family name. _

_ "__Hello my dear lady, how may I help you?"_

_With the beautiful scents of various fruits clouding my worries, I grinned and drooled at the sights. The man before me, a bit slow at recognition, noted my trancelike state and let out a belch of laughter. _

_ "__Oh! You must be the one they call 'the healthy thief'," he sang joyfully, not once demonstrating guardedness at the fact the words 'thief' appeared in my title. But who was I to remind him?_

_ "__Yes sir, mister," I replied sweetly, craning my head to take a good look at his supplies. "May I just say you have quite the wonderful selection!"_

_He waved away my praises with a flattered expression, reaching out to ruffle my hair. Normally I'd bite the hand that would attempt such harassment, but I was so terribly in love with those delicacies of pink goodliness…_

_ "__Sir, sir," another voice chimed in. Instantly I recognize it to by my partner in crime and I waited for the man to turn to address her. Once his back was turned, I quickly snatched a handful of raspberry heavenliness and innocently placed them at my back. Naomi, checking to see if I was in the clear, flirted her way into the man's heart and apologized that she couldn't linger around as long as she hoped. The man, his head practically the size of a watermelon now, blushed, turned back to me who swung back and forth cutely. _

_ "__Do you think I could maybe have a sample, mister?" I asked, tilting my head in a kind and welcoming manner. Completely frazzled, he quickly complied, looking around for a small bag and I took the opportunity to wink at Naomi who passed by, taking the load of berries off my hands so I could make for more. _

_ "__Here you go, young lady," the man said, turning back to hand me a small bundle of goods. "Now, you be sure to try these and come on back for more, you hear? A cutie like you needs a good supply of nutrition!"_

_Briskly, I nodded, taking the bag and shooting him a departing farewell. But before I could pull my hands completely back, he makes for my wrist and I smack him away. Replacing his kind, bubbly complexion was a fierce wrath and I knew I had screwed up somewhere._

_But then again… Naomi and I never screwed up. Well, not at least at taking small portions of food. What gave me away?_

_ "__You little thief!" he yelled, chasing me for a bit as I made a mad dash. No way would I stick around to ask him how he figured it out. I wasn't that curious. "Tell your two accomplices to stay the hell away!"_

_ …__Two?_

_ "__Thanks for the treat, mister!" I screamed back at him, maneuvering my way through the thick crowds and praying Naomi would keep a hold of my treasure for a while longer. It'd suck if this were all for nothing._

_Now regarding the seller's lack of skill in the world of counting… Naomi plus me equals two. But he said two of my accomplices, therefore he thought there were three of us. Now who in the devil-?_

_I halted in my tracks, staring at the back of a figure gliding through the sea of people. In his/her hands, swinging back and forth, was a full bag of lovely goods, much alike my own small sack. Dressed in a cloak, his or her hair was shrouded in a suspicious hood and that just screamed crook. That was without a doubt my sell-out. The rat that lost me more fruit that I could have taken. _

_I gritted my teeth and took pursuit, lingering back as to not cause too much alarm. Investigation time. The least he or she could do was give me his or her stash. I was owed that much for having my horrid day go even more horrendous._

_Little did I know, I was about to step into a place I wouldn't know how to comprehend._

* * *

"What's your preference of color?" Riza asks.

"…Green I guess…?" I answer, wondering if this was how she performed her deductions. Stun the person with weird, pointless talk and get them to reveal something critical on accident. Was this the way of the military? And why was she asking so formally? _Preference_?

"Lieutenant. You couldn't have asked that in a more normal way?" Roy jumps in, quirking a brow questionably. She stares at him blankly, acting as though he weren't making any sense.

"Like how, sir?"

He sighs, crossing his arms. "Like…What's your favorite color?"

Riza blinks slowly, glancing at me sitting stiffly and in the midst of my thought process. "What's wrong with the way I asked her?"

"You…" he starts then sort of slumps over. "Never mind."

"…uh…" I mutter, glancing over at the Hughes, smiling and uncaring for the uselessness of the question. Maes passes an 'ok' symbol, gesturing at me.

"Misaki, your turn to ask Riza something."

"R-Right…" I stutter, rubbing my elbow self-consciously. "Um…Why did you want to know my favorite color?"

Riza shrugs indifferently. "Curiosity."

"…okay…" I say, watching Maes lean forward, readying for his question. Gracia twiddles with her fingers as if in deep concentration. Roy appears bored and in a foul mood, once again.

"My turn~~" Maes sings.

I sigh, feeling like a hamster in a wheel. Running but never quite getting anywhere with these people.

"Let's see," he mumbles, piecing his words together. "Do you think that Roy over there is attract-"

"No," I answer quickly, catching him in the corner of my eye, glaring. Although I had mainly answered that one in a hurry to preserve my prideful streak, I did have to admit the Colonel had some sort of attractiveness about him appearance wise. Personality wise, he was equivalent to a toad. An ugly toad. A toad so past its usual ugliness that even other toads find him horrendously hideous. A disgusting, repulsive, loner of a toad. Of an ugly toad. An ugly toad. Ugly.

Maes laughs. It's my turn again.

"Do you think the Colonel is fit for his pos-"

"No," he answers quickly. Roy isn't too terribly happy.

"Explain yourself. Right now," he demands hotly. "Just why don't you think I'm fit to-"

"Kidding, kidding," Maes insists, waving out his hands in surrender. "Settle down. Settle down."

Roy tears at the grass, muttering unintelligibly to himself as Riza sighs. Gracia, watching me with an out of place seriousness, swallows nervously and I grow cold. Weird to think she'd be the one to start the uncomfortableness. Just what did she intend to ask?

"Misaki…" she says quietly, looking almost apologetic. She folds her hands together and I await her question. "I don't mean to sound so serious out of the blue, but I'm really…umm…"

She pauses for a moment then shakes her head violently. Her lips quiver and she forces a smile, waving off her insecurity.

"What sorts of food do you like?"

I pass her a knowing look of confusion, scrunching my forehead but answering anyways.

"I love fruit. Can't get enough of it."

"We can tell," Roy mutters to which I ignore. Instead I regard Gracia with a tense curiosity.

"What did you really want to ask me?" I ask. Shyly she presses her index fingers together, chewing her lip.

"It's well... Would you mind?"

I shake my head no. Gracia takes a deep breath, eyeing Riza who remains reserved and proper. Roy goes unusually attentive.

"I was wondering," she starts, suddenly taking in my bandaged shoulder. It's then that I recall the slip of paper I had taken secretly and I grow uneasy. For what reason, I couldn't say. The message scrawled upon its surface struck a chord within me and I guess I felt as though it meant something in some unknown sense. Even so, there wasn't any reason to stress over it being discovered. So then why was I so on edge?

"Maes told me, very vaguely, about how you were found," she says, glancing at her husband for confirmation. He nods, austere.

"I see..." I answer, turning weary. So Gracia had been somewhat kept in the loop. Only thing is, I don't know how up to date her information is. "Maes, would it be alright if I'm entitled another question?"

He contemplates this, nudging his wife.

"Only if you allow my dearest another question," he offers and I find it reasonable to accept.

"What exactly have you been told?" I ask, afraid to speak ahead of myself and put her into a place no innocent should be. It pains me to think of the many ways she could react to my story, whether lightly or horrifically. I didn't want to risk scaring her off or getting her to latch onto me anymore than she already has. In fact, I didn't want her being attached to me at all. It keeps escaping my mind just how stupid this all was, doing the exact opposite of distancing and instead sitting here basically having picnic in the park. This would get me nowhere but ensure more misery and burdens to spread amongst everyone. Roy may say he's a killer, but surely he's nothing compared to the likes of me. I had to remember my background history. There is no room for forgiveness. No room for me along these wonderful city walls. None.

"I was only told that you were with Mustang outside Central City, out in the forest, and was separated by some murderer that had been going around," Gracia answers, bringing me back to my question. Maes' glasses held an eerie glint and Roy had his typical frown. I couldn't get past the whole murder ordeal. It still terrifies me how the killer came to be. Naomi wouldn't have done such horrible things if I hadn't…

"Maes and Riza went out in search for him. When they found him, running around looking for something, they found out that he'd been investigating the woods under the killing case and came across a young girl. You saved his life, then took off in pursuit of the criminal yourself? I just can't get over how reckless that was." She shakes her head in disbelief, fixated on the distorted version of the truth. Me, saving the Colonel? Was taking him hostage, ruining his hands only to heal them, and taking off without him alone in the forest considered _saving_? Quite an interesting way to put it.

I stare at Roy, trying to read his tense expression, impossible to crack and difficult to interpret. Such a grumpy, sour look about him. The look of a dedicated official. He returns my gaze with a meager tug at his firm line.

"So that's how you got your wound, fighting with this person. This horrible person who, oh Misaki, I'm so sorry. I should have just kept quiet. Forget of my question, please."

By taking one look at my loosening expression, she panicked, jumping to conclusions and trying to fix what she thought she had damaged. Little did she know how broken I already was to begin with.

"No, no," I say, wanting desperately to reach out and calm her, but not daring to infect her with my dirty hands. My bloodstained palms. "It's fine. I understand why you'd be curious. I'd be asking myself the same things. Please ask away."

Her eyes ask one final time if I'm certain before she dives in.

"Where are you from?" she pries. My heart skips a beat and I find myself once again looking at the Colonel observing my reaction. Gracia is suddenly uncomfortable and I rub the back of my neck, contemplating my choice of words. "You don't have to answer. It's intrusive on my part."

I smile kindly and wave her fears off. "It's not intrusive," I assure, grabbing at my ankles and squeezing. "I would assume you've figured out that I'm not exactly from around these parts, hmm?"

Sheepishly she returns the smile. "Based on the reaction in the train, I would have to say so."

Of course she wouldn't have pointed this out earlier. How polite. The least I could do was tell her where I was from, right? Maes, Riza, and the Colonel already knew, so why not?

I take a deep intake of oxygen, let it flow through my system. This is alright, this is okay, I can tell her. I can trust her too.

_Too_?

Well, I suppose I did trust Riza, ever since the incident in Ishval, I think. But Maes and Roy, especially Roy? When was the last time I had ever entrusted myself in the cares of strangers? Never? Had I ever been lenient on first impressions? I couldn't even remember.

Fujiin feels like so long ago. What was she/I like?

"Remember those couple of times when you said my speech put me under the impression of royalty?" I ask, urging her to reminisce to the train and her home. She takes a moment to make a thoughtful face, nodding once she obtained the memory. "Well, in a way, you were right."

"What do you mean?" she prods, easing past her self-limitations, and fully expanding into the mysteries of my history. Maes passes a supportive smile and I get the sense he's saying I don't have to go any further if I couldn't handle it. A kind thing for him to hint, but surely I could get past something minor like my place of birth. Gracia wouldn't hate me for being what was considered the enemy of her country. Maes and Roy certainly didn't mind. Riza was only caught off guard when we first met and now she was tending to my wounds. Differences were set aside. Our leaders may have quarreled, but we weren't being forced to oblige to their opinions now.

"I'm not from Amestris," I say. "I'm of Aerugonian blood." My hands tremble and I search for the strength to go on. "I was a royal knight of Prince Claudio, commander of his men, and one of the few responsible for serving in the Ishval war."

Roy flinches, a small, almost unnoticeable movement, but I catch it. Gracia's eyes go wide. Why I had to have mentioned the Ishval war, I didn't know. It sort of just fell out with the rest of my chatter.

"Ishval…war…?" Gracia mouths, turning to face her husband, one of the participants. "She was your…our…enemy?"

Perhaps this _would_ change the way she saw me.

"She saved my life."

Gracia and I look at Riza, trailing her fingers along the grassy floor, staring firmly ahead. Roy appears genuinely interested and his eyes narrow upon the Lieutenant who was defending me.

"Yes, you two did put out the impression that you both were already acquainted some years back," Roy interjects. Riza focuses on my expression, trekking carefully.

"We met on the battlefield, when it was quiet and we were nearing the end…"

She goes off, retelling the story of our first encounter, making sure to omit certain things from our discussion like the symbol on her back (which I suddenly recall and can't seem to stop thinking about) and Ritzu. Grateful for her discreet dedication to me, I regain a boost of confidence and watch for Gracia's reaction. She seems calm enough and I feel somewhat content to have that out of the way. She's certainly blinking a lot, though.

"I-I had no idea," she whispers after some time, breaking away her gaze. Maes settles closer to her, drawing her in and I wonder if Gracia sees me not as Misaki anymore, but one of the hired soldiers required to fight any enemy on sight, including her dearest husband. Now that I think about it, if I had run into him, would he have killed me on sight like Riza was trained to do? She hesitated and because of that, I'm still alive today, but Maes, I had a feeling, was more of a merciless follower. The same could be said for Roy. If it had been any other person besides Riza, there might have been bloodshed. Crazy how that fact stands and yet here we are a couple years later, playing tag and asking questions that we're actually bothering to answer.

"But, hold on a second!" Gracia snaps to face me, her eyes shivering with bewilderment. "But I was told that Aerugo…" She looks at Maes and he in turn stares at his shoes. I nod slowly, sadly. My stomach does a terrible twist. Gracia goes limp, hanging her head distressingly. Her eyes lower and her lips tremor. "How awful…"

Awful indeed.

She shudders, crossing her arms as though she were cold. I'm overwhelmed by the memory of the girl in white and like a virus, I too shiver.

"So you're a survivor," she says, frowning at the sound of it, the overall truth of it. "Oh Misaki, I'm so sorry." Without warning, I'm engulfed in her arms and filled with the homely scent of her. Astonished by her response, I sit with my arms limber, staring at Maes who seemed completely unfazed. Of course he wouldn't. This was probably the way Gracia always was, but to think she'd be doing this to me of all people.

But…why hug me? Why hug the one responsible?

"I'm so, so sorry I asked. What you went through, it's amazing how strong you are."

Strong…Yes, strong enough to realize what I'd done and run from it.

"If there's anything I can do for you, do not hesitate to let me know. Please. No one should have to go through something so terrible. Oh, Misaki…"

Terrible… Terrible enough to drive people to murdering for pleasure or tear apart families.

"The one responsible for those mass murders, we'll make sure it you never have to see him again. This can be your home. Sweetie, I'm…" She can't even finish. She's gone off into compulsive sobs and her husband came soaring in, pulling her away to comfort her.

I only sit and shakily blink at the empty space before me, once filled with her soothing presence.

'_This can be your home.'_

_ '__one responsible for those mass murders…'_

_ '__never have to see him again'_

Why is she saying such ridiculous things? Offering a home, again. Speaking as though I'm the one who needs protecting. Gracia, _I'm_ the mass murderer. _I'm_ the one responsible for so many lives lost. _I'm_ to blame. You can't just say such wonderful words and expect me to accept them, not the way I am. Why would you go out of your way to do that? Why? Don't…Don't look at me like that. So charitably. It hurts.

"You…" my throat rasps to its own rhythm. I'm on full autopilot and clueless as to where I'm going. "You're being…"

Gods, what was I even saying? Nothing coming out of my mouth made an ounce of sense. I'm like a broken record, stuck on the needle, repeating over and over.

I swallow, blink a couple of times to ease the stinging pain, and demonstrate the flimsiest smile in history.

"You're too kind, Gracia," I say, reaching out to squeeze her hand. The gesture is unnatural for me and it's sort of awkward and clumsy, but she doesn't complain. Instead she squeezes back and tackles me for another embrace to which I very reluctantly return.

"Please consider it," she whispers, leaving me to understand her meaning. I'm not sure I could ever accept, but I nod anyways. When we eventually draw away from each other, she composes herself and goes back to cheery spirits, leaving me to throw away my bitter, self-degrading thoughts and tend to our little game.

"So, apparently you're guaranteed another question," I say, eyeing Maes who also went to his chipper self. Gracia looks surprised, scrunching her face in uncertainty.

"Really? Um…Okay. Well," she says, trailing off and humming to herself. Once she's gotten a question in mind, her eyes light up and she beams. "What is your preference in men?"

All the seriousness in the room evaporates and leaves me with the temptation to drive my head into a wall. What…sort of question…

"Ah…well, umm…I'm not…er…"

Roy, slipping from his cool stature, snorts and I toss him an unappreciative glare.

"Yes, yes," he coos, holding his chin up on his palm in mock fascination. "Do tell."

"The question has nothing to do with you, mule," I snap, turning my back on him and trying desperately to keep my head on straight. Preference in men? Was she being serious? How'd she manage to leap from palace life to _preference in men_?

"Why would you want to know that?" I ask Gracia, chuckling nervously. She shyly covers her mouth, laughing.

"Riza asked for your preferred color so I figured I'd be allowed to ask you something similar," she says innocently.

"Asking for my ideal dream guy is like asking for my favorite color?" I ask, dumbfounded. Certainly there was something wrong there. One was a boring conversational approach, the other... To be blunt, it felt a little intrusive.

"Is that another question on your part?" Maes asks teasingly.

"No," I answer, catching onto his pattern of tricks. "But I believe what you just said qualifies as one."

I can't believe I pulled a Maes.

He laughs, intertwining his fingers with Gracia. The two put their weight against one another, supporting.

"So?" Gracia prods.

"Absolutely not. I am not going to answer that."

"You have to. You asked her two questions, well technically three, so therefore you're in a tight spot," Maes says in a cheesy, booming voice of authority. My lips fade into a firm line.

"C'mon. Simply describe yours truly and be done with it."

Fuming, I ignore Roy's comment. Being a narcissistic man did nothing for me. I held no room in my credentials for an egoistic, bloated mule. He may drive the ladies insane with his boyishly cute looks, but really, knowing him, he's nothing but slop.

"I get the feeling you're thinking some unladylike thoughts about me," Roy says. Indeed I was, but probably not in the perverted sense he was suggesting.

A pair of eyes drive through me and I find they belong to Riza. She looks worried, sending a hoard of possible reasons. Did she think I was still in a funk from the earlier topic? Worried about my shoulder, was it ripped?

"I think she'd be the type to be escorted by the sweet, charming ones. Perhaps swept off her feet?"

"No, no. I picture the strong, devishly handsome and loyal type."

"Reserved, book nerd?"

"Bold party planner?"

The Hughes continue to babble on about irrevelant matters, interpreting the "perfect" man for me. Riza's set expression, however, distracts me from the considerably insulting conversation. She seems so focused on my responses that it's unnerving. What was eating at her?

_Oh_.

She knows about Ritzu.

I'd almost forgotten.

"Misaki doesn't seem the type to like having her guy show up at the door with flowers," says Maes.

"I don't know, maybe she'd prefer a romantic stroll beneath the full moon?" replies Gracia.

She knew about Ritzu when he was actually alive. What is she thinking now? Is she connecting the dots, realizing I was one of the very few survivors, alone?

"Honey, she's barely had time to settle in. You can't just shove the first guy that comes to mind on her." Gracia.

"What? They've already been acquainted and seem to have passionate conversations. If not now, later on they should at least try." Maes.

"Don't make plans involving me without my consent!" Roy.

Gracia's question. Was Ritzu my example of a decent guy to be with? I _did_ fall in love with him, and I suppose we had been like the Hughes at one point, so wouldn't that make him my perfect half? Wouldn't it _had_? I have to remind myself he isn't here anymore. The possible half of me is long gone and I'm left to be incomplete. It's such a gloomy thought. I shouldn't think such things.

"It's getting late."

Riza stands up, approaching me and extending her hand. Curiously, I look up at her. She gives me a hard stare and I have a feeling she's doing this for my benefit.

"It's barely past five and I've still got my question, Lieutenant."

She hardly passes a glance to the Colonel, pulling me up as I reached out for her. The Hughes make sure to get up as well, Roy remaining on the ground and leering at me, expecting an answer. I merely shrug, perfectly alright with the plan, although a part of me wishes to remain with the group for a while longer.

"It wasn't as if I was actually going to answer for you anyways," I make sure to let the Colonel know before passing the Hughes a gracious smile and humble bow. Gracia smiles, remembering of my background and place. It was force of habit for me to do such a thing. For the first time, I felt slightly embarrassed doing it. Maes, ever the humorous one, copies my odd display of gratitude and I feel a little more relaxed. Roy, determined bugger he was, goes for my attention once more.

"Answer my question."

I spin to face him, glowering. "I don't appreciate your tone, _Colonel_."

"Please."

Now there was a shock. I would have never expected the man to have manners and sound so serious about it. But there was something about the way he didn't have his usual playful demeanor or flaming attitude, something that drew me to listening to his next few words.

"Let it be quick and reasonable," I say to my own surprise. He nods then stands, coming close, then closer and I went stiff as a statue. "What-"

Without warning, his hand snatches my wrist and he pulls me away from the others, too stunned to do anything but watch as we made our way out and into the dark, claustrophobic nightmare of an entrance and back out into the civilization.

"H-Hey!" I yell, trying to pull with the little strength I had. "What the hell are you doing?!"

He doesn't say anything as we sprint onward for a while, leaving me to wonder if this was some sort of psychotic kidnapping. When he finally settles for a secluded alley, tending to the comfort level at a minimum, he lets me go and pockets his hands as I rub at the place he had gripped so tightly. Whatever his question was, it was obvious he wanted it private, but was it really necessary to yank me out without a heads up?

"What is your deal? You can't just-"

"Let's pretend you don't hate me."

Stunned, I quirk a brow questionably. "Excuse me?"

Roy sighs, pushing back his hair. "I said for now, can we just pretend that we get along?"

I blink at him, momentarily thrown off by his calm, mature behavior. "Why?" I ask, feeling silly for speaking it aloud. Roy steps forward and I take one back. "What's going on with you?"

"Just listen to me okay?" he pleads. I'm not entirely sure what is going on through his brain right now, but it's freaking me out. The way he's staring at me as if I were the most fragile thing, it's uncomfortable. Why the sudden interest to become temporary buddies?

"…what do you want?"

He doesn't say anything for a while, glancing around as though we were being followed. His paranoia spreads onto me and I start to feel twitchy, itching to jump and bolt out of this empty, isolated alley…What on earth did he intend to do?

"Come and stay at my place."

…What? All this running around just to give one of his perverted requests? Seriously? That's it? What was with this guy? 'You're an idiot' is all I can manage to say. Frustrated, he exhales loudly, muttering to himself.

"Look, I know it sounds insane, but there's just- I can't explain it, okay? I'm asking you to come and stay the night at my place for a few days at least-"

"You can just stop right there," I hiss, already beginning to turn back towards the Hughes and Riza. "Keep your sick fantasies to yourself. I don't want anything to do with them."

"No," Roy says, almost frantic. "Listen. I know it may seem like I'm some creep trying to get you to come home with me-"

"Damn right, you do," I snarl, repulsed. To think I believed this would go somewhere meaningful, but nope. Just another perverted let down.

"I'll ask you one final time-"

"Don't bother."

Dramatically, he throws his hands up into the air in an exasperated gesture, groaning with irritation.

"Fine. See if I care. If you're just going to be difficult-"

"Me? Difficult? Excuse me for not agreeing to your pleasurable invite, _Colonel_." I make a rude gesture and take off, spinning around to find he wasn't pursuing me. Thank heavens. However his voice makes sure to reach and remind me of his presence.

"Never let your guard down, Bubbles!"

Gritting my teeth, I make sure to correct him before vowing to be more mindful of his schedule to avoid him as much as possible.


	16. Mysteries Worth Solving

_Moron. This guy was an absolute moron._

_"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"_

_"I'm sorry? I only intended to take one apple. Have I done something wrong?"_

_"Done something wrong? Don't play dumb with me, brat."_

_I'd followed the troublesome figure to another fruit stand, expecting a clever display of thievery, only to witness a sad, ignorant boy, oblivious to his own acts of crimes. He may have gotten away with the previous owner, but the man he was messing with now would eat him alive. Even I wouldn't bring myself to raid his cart. It was suicide._

_"__I'm not quite sure I follow…"_

_And what was with the formality on this kid? He sounded out of place, like he didn't belong. An outsider. Outsiders never lasted around these parts. Where was he from?_

_"__Oh? Then let me make it clearer for you, dipshit."_

_Oh dear. Didn't matter anymore. The runt was going down a fatal path and he wasn't even aware of it. The shroud still hid his distinctive features, but his voice gave up his gender. From here, I could manage to see a sliver of his mouth, turning upwards, a definite way to ensure death by the merchant._

_"__You steal from me? I take a hand."_

_The brutal man unsheathed a knife, snatching at the boy's wrist and slamming it onto a surface. With a fearsome snarl, he goes off into a heated lecture, raising the blade, glistening under the merciless sun. Smile on idiot boy vanishes._

_"__W-Wait, what on earth do you think you're doing?" the boy demanded, panicking and trying desperately to flee the bone crushing grip that was obviously being applied to his arm. The man said nothing, readying the strike._

_I'm so tempted to just watch everything unravel seeing as how I was still pissed about the give away from earlier, however thanks to certain parental genes, I can't bring myself to allow justice to be served this way. No matter how much I hated the kid. _

_With a sigh, I gathered my wits and leapt out into the midst of the scene. The man, oblivious to my entrance, continued to prepare his killing strike when I clumsily rammed into his side. Startled, the knife tumbled away and dumb wanna be thief slipped a safe distance away. _

_"Oh I'm so- terribly sorry," I slurred, adding the occasional hiccup and sway. The drunk act was pathetic, but entertaining nonetheless, and I'd attracted quite the crowd. "Waahcha sellin'?"_

_The man, now even more red from a mixture of rage and embarrassment, spun to face me, blade raised. I had hoped he'd be at a point of realizing just how many eyes were on him, but I may have underjudged his pissed off meter. _

_"__Damn bitch!"_

_Not good._

_In a flash, the gloves were on, literally, and I worked my magic, yanking away the dangerous marketer's toy. His hand, persistent, continued on to rain down on my head and so I readied for the moment to perform a simple flip-you-over-despite-being-heavier-set maneuver, but before I could do so…_

_"__How dare you strike at a young lady!"_

_Mr. Genius decided to chose that very second to be "heroic" and he made the mistake of noting me as a "young lady", hence I was perfectly okay with the rewarded punch to the nose he took for me, flying backwards into a clumsy heap at the spot I had been standing in. With a simple side step, I glared at the idiot, shaking my head at the spewing fountain of blood trickling down his chin. The madman of the hour, clearly unsatisfied by his jab, roared a series of rude remarks, charging straight for the boy. Rolling my eyes, I leapt to his aid, again, and snatched at his wrist, tugging him to his feet and sloppily dragging his heels at my pace, away from the scene. He obliged easily enough and I was left to my thoughts of why I had done what I did._

* * *

_"__Thank...Thank you."_

_Exhaling, I waved away the gratitude coldly, collapsing to my bum. Seeing it as an invite, for some reason, the boy had the guts to fall over beside me, breathing hard. Every part of my body tensed. It had been a long run as I had once again misunderstood our pursuer's determination, and so here we were, moron and skilled thief that had that situation _completely _under control, still sticking around for no particular reason. _

_Why hadn't I ditched the kid during our chase? He was the main problem, I was in the clear. Actually, why was I _still _lingering around here? Someone else could do the babysitting, I had some berries to eat. _

_"__What's your name?"_

_I looked at him in disbelief, blinking. From this close, I could see the startlingly beautiful sapphire glint in his eyes as well as his handsome facial features. He was pretty, I'd grant that, but usually the pretty ones were the most idiotic. _

_"__Oh, my apologies, I'd almost forgotten of your unstable state," he said as though it were the most polite way of speaking. _

_"__Excuse me?" I hissed, sitting taller and noticing his advantage in height. The boy looked suddenly flustered, jolting to his feet and placing an arm to his stomach. I wondered if he was in pain, until he began to bow. _Bow_. The fool was _bowing _to me. Suddenly I was the one agitated, snatching his sleeve to toss him back down to the ground. "Stop that. Are you mental?"_

_"__I'm sorry ma'dam? I'm afraid I'm not quite familiar with that phrase? Do you mean to ask if I am retarded?"_

_Unbelievable._

_"Yes," I snapped, amazed by the boy's logic. "Although I'm fairly certain you are." With that, he messed with his nose, drawing back a bloodied hand in surprise. Guess he never really took the time to register the severity of that punch._

_"No," he said gravely, fiddling with his ridiculous grim reaper attire. "I do not suffer from any mental disorders."_

_"That's not..." I trailed off sighing loudly and pushing back my hair. A literal brat. Takes everything so seriously and as the way it appears. Great. I didn't even bother with pointing out the implied sarcasm. He wasn't my concern anymore. Even so, that didn't seem to stop him from continuing his stupefying conversational skills._

_"Not what?" he asked, flinching at my replying icy glare. "I'm not sure I understand... Have I upset you?"_

_"Yes!" I barked, "You got me caught, I had to save your skin from your own stupidity, and now I'm having to deal with your gibberish. Are you _trying_ to sound like an asshole?"_

_He seemed shocked, in the midst of deciding whether or not to wipe his wet hand on his hideous clothing. In a flurried panic, he basically threw his palm all over the place, searching for some sort of proper cloth. Probably a handkerchief, judging by his ludicrous babbling. _

_"I thought that you were the one needing the saving. And as for me being responsible for your capture, I have no clue to what you mean." He appeared genuinely confused. The little crime he committed was unplanned, all right. Who was this kid?_

_"Were you not aware that what happened back at those two carts is commonly known as stealing?" I pointed out, raising a brow. _

_"Stealing?" he echoed __incredulously__, taking a seat once more at my side. It didn't seem to get to him just how uncomfortable I was being this close to a stranger. A weird one at that. _

_"Yes. Don't you know what that means?" I noted his blank stare with concern. "Taking things you're not supposed to take? No?"_

_He shook his head, casting his eyes low guiltily. "I'm not familiar with the term."_

_"Well," I sighed, reaching into my pocket and extracting a lone apple. "I guess for porky back there, it's fine. He's not exactly on anyone's good side." I turned the fruit in my hand a couple of times, giving myself something to do while engaging in my inner world of curiosity. It appeared as though I was going to have to cave into my bubbling questions._

_"I see..." the boy said quietly, twiddling with his thumbs. "You said two carts. I'm assuming you're referring to the, as you claimed, capture?"_

_The formality was annoying. It took quite a bit of willpower to refrain from breaking his nose _off_._

_"Yes. You would be correct, except for the whole 'claimed' deal. You most assuredly did get me into a predicament." Now I wouldn't be able to raid that luscious raspberry gold mine, not to mention the other surrounding ones that that despicable man was certain to give the heads up on. I'd have to lay low for a while, and I _hated_ waiting. _

_"How?" he pressed. _

_"He caught only one thief," I answered._

_"So you were stealing as well," he accused, reaching back out to cover his faucet of a nose, forgetting once again of its stickiness. He grimaced._

_"Yes. We're both thieves. Make sense?"_

_He didn't respond, disapproving of his messed up state and new found discovery of being a criminal. Fed up by his obsession with his red stained palms, I leapt up and dashed over to the nearest stand, lying just below us. White cloth fluttered in the wind and with my knife I ripped away a piece. With my ghetto wipe, I jogged on back to him staring fascinatingly at me. Ignoring the sudden twinkle in his eyes, I shoved the fabric over his broken sniffer and demanded he apply pressure. Graciously, he accepted the item, tilting back and pinching. _

_"Thanks," he said, though with the fabric it sounded more like "thunks". Averting my eyes, I measured a safe distance and took a seat once more. _

_"Where are you from?" I asked, awaiting for some ridiculous reply. Instead I was met with his tensing stature and the sneaking glimpse from between his forefingers. He gave an unexpected cough of a laugh, wincing at the pain it brought. _

_"Is it that easy to tell I'm not from around here?" he asked humorously, uncaring of my frown. Whistling through my teeth, I cast a withering look._

_"Well you certainly don't talk like a local." I gestured at his clothes. "And you have the gloomiest get up I've ever seen. Not to mention you don't know, or you 'claimed' to not know what stealing is." I make sure to add his own choice of words in the mix, scowling at his twitching corners. What out of all of that appealed to him as funny?_

_"Ah, I suppose now you expect me to tell you of my background so easily?" he chuckled with a hint of a tease. I was not amused. _

_"Yes, because of all the trouble you've put me through." _

_He pulled back away from the bloodied material, cocking his head with mock interest. _

_"From what I recall, the scenario of 'saving' me wasn't my doing. That you did entirely of your own free will."_

_I didn't appreciate the smug tone, and I certainly didn't enjoy the overall truth of his point. He had something good to hide and now I wanted to know it even more._

_"Okay, but the matter of the first cart and being caught-"_

_I paused at his laughter, crinkling my temple in confusion. He casually extended his legs, leaning forward to gaze through me. Something struck a nerve. An aura of power seemed to envelope him and I felt slightly intimidated. It was as if this was suddenly a different person. The weak, freak of a boy was now replaced by someone... wise. In control._

_I shivered._

_"If I remember correctly, the path of a thief, your stealing, wasn't up to me either. You were in the act of something wrong as well, so in reality I've done some justice by having you close to being caught," he went off, ending with something remarkably close to a smirk. Gritting my teeth, I fisted the ground and narrowed my eyes._

_"Who are you?"_

_He sighed in feign annoyance. His irises continued their magnificent dazzling show, nearly blinding me. _

_"Haven't we established I've nothing to owe you, fair lady?" His taunting face melted into that of a gentleman, kind, polite, and considerate. He had the appearance of one who would listen to all my problems and actually sympathize. Someone trustworthy. It's almost impossible for me to break from the spell. All it takes is the reminder of being called 'fair lady' like I was some fragile doll to be kept. As much as I'd like to slaughter the boy with newly acquired techniques from Papa, I still had the nagging insistence to dig out information. _

_It's harder than I thought it'd be._

_"Okay," I growled, eyes twitching. "So are you saying there is absolutely no way I'm going to learn who you are?"_

_He took the time to imitate contemplation, tapping the side of his cheek and closing his eyes. "Well, I didn't say that..." His lips spread out wider and he peeled back his gaze to once again stun me with his crystal stare. "How about a trade?"_

_Guarded, I demanded he elaborate. _

_"A trade," he said again, rubbing at his chin pleasantly, beaming at his idea. "Information for information. You tell me a bit about yourself. I tell you a bit of myself. How does that appeal to you, fair maiden?"_

_Agitated, I waved off the last of his comments. "Okay, okay," I hissed. "But enough with the maiden and lady crap."_

_He nodded, victorious, and bent his head down in another, more minor bow. "But of course. I wish to not offend."_

_"Right..." I grumbled, frowning. "And can it with the formality. Or at least tone it down a notch."_

_"Alright."_

_I'd agreed like it was no big deal, but the stranger was still a stranger, and a suspicious one at that. I could give away false info, but the way his starry eyes cut into me, I found it unnerving. Maybe even a bit terrifying. There was something bizarre by the way he appeared so proper and of higher class. It was intimidating and creepy and I really felt like it'd be smart to drop the situation and sprint it on down to Naomi, who was probably kicking up a storm of frustration waiting for me. Speaking of which, I wondered just how she would have handled the situation. He, as I noted before, was a looker, and Naomi, tough girl she may be, was a sucker for the boys. Would she experience these weird, annoying fluttery sensations in my stomach? The sticking, drowning effect taking effect in my head? My words felt like mush and took three times the effort for me to push them out in intelligent syllables. What was going on with me? Was this of his doing?_

_Why, oh why did I have to follow him?_

_"How does this work?" I sighed, feeling a pout coming on. He shrugged, making even that seem like an art, messing around with his now red cloth. The bleeding, it seemed, had finally come to a stop, or at least a slight trickle. Dried blood sprinkled his features and I had the sudden urge to snatch the fabric from his restless hands and wipe away the gunk. _

_"I'd love to hear what it is you go by for starters."_

_In other, more normal words, he meant my name. Knowing if I fumbled under my doubts and precautions I'd be here all day, I quickly, and stiffly answered. _

_"Fujiin."_

_He nodded, grinning. _

_"Fujiin," he tested, stretching out the u in a playful manner. "Beautiful. Unique."_

_I ignored his compliment, not exactly favorable towards attempts at flattery. Especially on typically bad days. _

_"And you?" I prod. He takes a moment before giving me a working title and I cannot be sure of its reliability. I cannot be certain of his honesty or if he was putting up a show of innocence. _

_He told me his name and I look back on it wondering sometimes. Wondering why he had chosen to trust me. Why had he decided to linger around me? What about him drew me in beside his mysteriousness? When had I figured out those rising emotions, blossoming in my heart? So many things to ponder about, all buried in the past. Pieces of a puzzle I never received the tools to solve. Bits of me lying scattered, refusing to come together and make sense of the thoughts and imaginative scenarios clouding my brain. He told me his name, and I wondered then as I wonder today. Always wondering. Will I always wonder? Will I never forget? Will his name ever leave my chest, my lips, my soul? _

_"Ritzu."_

_He had dusted himself off. He'd risen and offered me a hand to my own feet._

_"__Let us meet again, if you don't mind."_

_"__What?" I had said, a bit on edge. "We've hardly gone past the introductions."_

_He had bowed, earning an irritated glower from me. "As I'm not from around these parts, I'll be needing a guide. Seeing as how you only seem interested in my info, I shall have to preserve it as much as I can, indeed?"_

_I'd stuttered. There was no way for me to react as I wanted. He was truly a puzzle that appeased to my curiosity, my craving for adventure. How was I to refuse what I was itching to discover?_

_"__Until tomorrow? Same spot?"_

_I said nothing, baffled. He had taken this as an opening for more of his charmingly bizarre words._

_"__I bid you goodnight," he practically sang, raising his head to my level, grinning before adding with a slight taunt, "my lady?"_

_Then he had taken off in a graceful sprint, crusty face and all._

_Later on, when he finally told me his identity, I couldn't have cared any less for it. That wasn't what mattered to me anymore. A new mystery had surfaced. A mystery I never had the chance to fully unravel._

* * *

**_Yooooo! I'm back and alive! (sort of...)_**

**_So good news and bad news... But first I want to take the time once more to say THANKS FOR THE VIEWS AND REVIEWS AND ALL THAT JAZZ :D _**

**_Like you have no idea how happy this makes me *insert less than three*_**

**_I also want to point out once again my wonderful, wonderful friend, Blue ^.^ writer of Numb the most AMAZING Fullmetal Alchemist fanfiction I've ever read! You should definitely give her story a read, I highly recommend it, share it with friends, just man... Amazing._**

**_She's under my favorite author list and just- wow. It's such a heart-warming tale :)_**

**_Okay! So the bad news... I'm still neck high in the torturous schedule of marching band camp!_**

**_School is coming *cue ominous thunder* and I've got to do something called homework... *sigh*_**

**_Unless of course, someone would like to do it for me? :D_**

**_No?_**

**_Okay..._**

**_Any who... What I mean to say is I usually love making long chapters for you guys! But that'd take quite a while..._**

**_Good news is (I suppose...?) I'll be starting to make my chapters a bit shorter for you all^.^ so I can post frequently?_**

**_Depending on how much you truly wish to be updated, I shall prevail and conquer my school's need to take away my passion of writing! _**

**_I love you all._**

**_Seriously._**

**_Over 2,000 views?_**

**_Amazing._**

**_I hope you still enjoy these chapters (even if they're a little shorter now)_**

**_Thanks again my lovelies~_**

**_~Wonder14_**


	17. Nothing More

Lying in the dark, when everyone's asleep and you're wide awake, it can really spark some questions. Insights. Wonderments I didn't pick up on when I was living amongst the others.

What am I doing? Why am I here? Why am I just standing around, playing family, and pretending that everything is fine as the way it seems.

It can be dangerous. It can devour. It can remind.

The clock on the wall ticks away time and I cannot etch away the knowledge of the past. Once again I'm trapped in an endless loop, seeking an escape when there really can't be one. How am I to flee from the things I'd done?

I want so badly to forget, to tell myself it is okay to let go. Days I'm upset with myself for being so lost in my clashing emotions. Nights weave into my head and whisper painful reminders. Memories explode into lights of red and black. Red as the roses the Hughes passed onto me. Black as the molting tips of my feathers.

Feathers. My wings.

It's ironic how well they match my routine of "living". My beautiful designs are alive and luscious, reaching high to the skies, itching to take flight. They weave and tangle amongst one another, feeling, seeking the fresh air of the world, and acting as one. Silver and white mix and join, knowing their places, never seeming to appear lost, always knowing where to go, where to lean, where to tilt, where to flutter. Snow and ice, wintry bites, and scorching flames cannot dig into their flawless quality. Untouchable. Unreachable. Invincible. And the days pass, and they age. The days sip away the colors, drink away the light. They crackle, and flicker, and tear. Black, always the black, seeping into the tiny lines, aligning into the nightly constellations. Feathers start to crumble. Flight is a tiring idea, a childish dream. The order, the assurance, the confidence, evaporates. Gone. Drifting away to dust. And then the process repeats.

I am a broken record scratching a shattered melody.

This is a place of symphonies. There is no room for a deteriorating antique. There is nothing for me to give but the perilous needle to deliver the same distortion my song carries.

I'm only good as dead weight. Nothing more.

Nothing more.

I shift, focusing my eyes upon the glowing curtains. Behind it lies the night. It's plain fact. I don't have to peer around to know this. I've been taught to simply know. Even those who never heard the night will always be there at one point and the day will come at another, they have that knowledge, that reassurance that beyond the lace, glass, ceiling is the night sky.

I wish I could have such confidence in my fate. I desire such sureness, concerning my mind, my intentions. Behind these bloodied hands and murderous body is a beating heart. In that heart is humanity. A beautiful, living, flourishing, kind personality. I wish I could be certain that is who I am, despite my actions.

But I am not a curtain. And this soul of mine is not that night sky.

I am left in the dark, hoping to one day not have to peel back that cloth to ensure of my existence.

These are the tales of woe that hold me on a string. Scattered remains of my being. Nothing left to unbury and rejoin.

Nothing more.

Nothing more.

"Ritzu," I whisper and the wind answers with a soft beating behind those still windows. I cannot help but wonder if it's a beckoning. Whether an invitation to return to the schedule I once dealt or a command that I leave behind the cracking and mending pieces I've been offered. Perhaps it's both. I don't want to figure it out.

But either way, it's a message to leave. It's a message to depart this fairytale of mine.

"Are you angry with me?" I ask and shake my head. I'm speaking to a ghost. This sane mind of mine was slowly disappearing. Soon there would be nothing left but an aching shell.

_I love you_.

Oh Ritzu. I loved you too. Maybe I still do.

How is it you have me regretting those moments we spent together while simultaneously having me thanking you for such beautiful times? You idiot. Fool. Brilliant. Charming man.

I extend an arm, catching the sliver of lights leaking into the dark. Shadows dance along the ground, twisting and turning into unrecognizable shapes. It's almost pretty, the way the bleak things seem to morph together perfectly. Long paths stretch from objects, sinking into others, forming a bigger picture. Nothing touches yet the shadows are a connection. The table melts into the couch. The window grazes the floor. My arm seeps into the chair where Riza always seems to sit.

A part of me wonders if a shadow could join with other living shadows. People. Like holding hands. An invisible bond.

Gracia pops into mind as does Riza and Maes. I gaze up and over at the vase Riza thought would be great for keeping me company in the nights. My hand reaches out further to lightly trace the glass, then the stems of the silent flowers. Without making a sound, I pinch a standing out shape and lift it up and out and towards my empty chest. I hold it close, breathe it in, and shut my eyes, thinking of green and a different kind of red.

It's not much, but the rose sends a comforting memory. The Hughes shared a precious place and a pleasant moment, but it's not all that keeps me resting through the remainder of the night.

It smells of rain.

And Roy hates the rain.

Flame.

I dream of birds igniting.

I dream of a lone phoenix reborn in the midst of ash.

I dream of flying.

* * *

"Misaki?"

I vomit the last of my stomach, cradling my forehead, moaning to prove to my companion I was indeed still amongst the living.

"Sorry," I choke, gagging and accepting an offered napkin. With a violent swipe, I erase away the disgusting evidence of my "anxiety" which seemed the most dependable explanation. I'd woken up minutes ago feeling refreshed from my nightly dreams only to stare down and find the flower I had cradled had wilted. In fact, I'd noticed that all the roses in the vase had passed away to a hideous black and brown. Pieces of petals littered the floor and the vase itself had somehow chipped itself into a distorted, cracked line. At first sight, I immediately felt myself grow pale and shivered.

I had the horrible thought that I was the one responsible for killing it.

Riza politely yawns and takes her usual spot, lifting up my hair and picking off the sticking parts of the rose I'd cuddled with through the night. She doesn't say anything of it which is nice, but it doesn't clear away the screaming accusations of me being not only a killer of people, but a murderer of plants.

"There's no need to apologize. You're just a little sick. Let's get you cleaned up and get you back into bed." She smiles tiredly and rubs my back. When I think about it, I note the progress I've made. If she had done this a few days ago, make human contact, I'd probably shrink away in alertness. However, today, used to her presence, I'd complied easily enough. Nothing of it was bothersome.

I appreciated and feared this realization.

"Right," I answer. "Thank you, Riza."

She nods and I take a moment to stretch back and close my eyes. The cool tile beneath me supports the tremors that travel up and down my spine. The nausea has passed but the shakiness didn't seem promising.

How long had I been here? My shoulder was the least of my problems now. These stresses, confusion, denial, they were getting more frequent. Worse. I couldn't stand around enduring it any longer. Two weeks was two decades now.

And the Hughes gift...

"You know, sitting on the bathroom floor, it really surprises me how different it looks from here."

I glance at the sniper, confused. With a soft laugh she stares ahead and up at the mirror reflecting only the tub and back wall from where I sat.

"I've been in here so many times and even so, ever since you arrived, I've found out for the first time just how much a new perspective can change what I thought I knew from the inside out," she continues and I notice this is the first time I've seen her in slippers. Such a minor thing, yet it's so strange to witness her, wearer of uniform and representative of the formerly, seated with house shoes leaning against the bathroom cabinet. Peculiar how it never occurred to me she could be something other than a soldier; an actual person.

"From here, I can't see myself in that mirror. There's no way for me know if my hair is a mess or my chin is dotted with drool." She takes a second to laugh once more before going on. Quietly I listen, getting the feeling there was something meaningful behind those words, something I was meant to learn. Of course Riza would be the type not to express things so simply. She had to know my love for challenges, my eagerness and stubbornness to solve. What could she be wanting to say?

She points at the mirror, letting her words carry my gaze to the lack of people I saw within its surface. Almost as if no one were in here. Only ghosts.

Another tremor goes through me and I shudder.

"Normally when I pass that thing, I see myself. And to be honest, for a while I hated what I saw." Her eyes dim and I note a distant sadness. A remembrance from her own past? It'd almost slipped my mind this woman had murdered just as I had. Regretting. Haunted. "I'd see the same face every morning when I got dressed and brushed my teeth. I would always have the same distasteful look, the disapproving gleam in my eyes." She pauses to sneak a glimpse at my attentive expression, hinting at something deeper. Something personal.

"Don't you find it funny?"

I didn't. Not at all. But I could see snippets of what she meant.

"I always assume I'm hideous," I find myself say softly, earning a sincerely sympathetic look from my companion. It's startling how horribly true my words are. Never would I have broken into this realization if Riza hadn't made it so obvious. Even from here…

"You see?" Riza says, going back to her observation of the empty mirror. With a slight sigh, she draws her hands up to her chest, holding it closely, dearly. "How is it we just seem to cut straight to the worst possible conclusion despite not standing before our reflections?"

Yes, how is it indeed? We're so prone to coming across that self conjured image of ourselves, there is no way of distinguishing reality from imagination. Hundreds of times I've passed that mirror, seeing a killer, watching the blood pool from my skin, the marks of a beast, a monster, so it's only natural for me to assume that even away from that damn thing, I'm just as horrid. My reflection, I always believed, was destined to act as a reminder. That mirror of mine would forever follow me, even when it wasn't really there, I would remember. Aerugonian massacre. The nightmare of all nightmares. That killer rested not before the glass but behind it.

Sometimes I wished I could just shatter that image and find something sweeter beyond the surface. Something for me to call my own, and be happy with it.

"Misaki?"

"Hmm?"

Riza leans forward, capturing my thoughtful face within her wise gaze. It's scary how brilliant those eyes of hers seem, able to pick up movement from far away, quick to react and pull the trigger. Riza the sniper. Wielder of the vision of a hawk. Hawkeye.

"Do you think I'm beautiful? Inside and out?"

Taken aback, I hesitate before seriously nodding. "Yes," I answer. "From what I've seen and heard, you are beautiful both inside and out."

She laughs, a bit more darkly.

"I don't see myself that way. Not at all."

Of course she wouldn't. It was clear how much she hated herself for her stained hands, her worn down fingers. Years of standing in that uniform and obeying orders given from behind a window. Yet despite knowing what she'd done and what she'd been through, I somehow managed to point out the lingering beauty to her heart and soul. Just because she had taken lives didn't mean she was entirely lost to the evils of the military.

As long as others saw her the way I did, or the Hughes, or even the Colonel, she had a reason to not doubt herself.

If only I could truly accept that concept when it involved myself.

"I'm going to leave you to get cleaned up," Riza says, breaking into my thoughts. I nod, watching her stand, appreciative of the privacy she was willing to offer me. Thankful for the attempt at changing my insights on past burdens. "Make sure to go straight to bed when you're done."

Again that mothering, disciplining tone. Something I was never completely used to in my childhood. Timely scolds and occasional rules, they were a thing of mystery. Papa never put up the barriers. Never had the will to do anything that risked a breaking bond.

So much for that.

I nod once again for her benefit. She responds with a grateful smile, turning to leave me to my messy hair and ruffled clothes. However, before she steps out, she stops to consider something, then extends a hand behind her and towards me. Without warning, fingers fold upon my beaten shoulder and she gently squeezes. When I make no move to show she's inflicted pain, she does it again and looks back to reveal a meaningful glint in her eyes. As soon as it hits me what the stare implies, I avert my eyes. Riza leaves me to my sullen state, shutting the door behind her quietly and I delicately trace the area she'd blessed with her friendly, welcoming contact.

Everything about that look said she cared.

The shadows had linked as I wanted them to. Yet I feel no excitement or gratitude. Only another storming wave of sickness.

I vomit once again.

* * *

_**Woooooo! Thank goodness! Today was a break off morning and afternoon block so I was able to write some more! :D Yaaaaay!~~**_

_**(Plus, there's a slight chance I may not have to do my summer homework YESSSSSSS)**_

_**Time is truly magical, *sigh***_

_**Soooooo sorry it's not Mustang filled yet, but I promise to get there soon! ^.^**_

_**Thanks much you guys! Hope you continue on our little adventure to see how Misaki and the valiant Roy Mustang get along!**_

_**Oh, and Misaki apologizes for all the extreme sick scenes. **_

_**She has a weak stomach, heh, heh.**_

_**Later!**_

_**~~Wonder14**_


	18. Fever

"Sick again, huh?"

"Sir, please do behave. She's feeling worse than usual."

"I see." The sound of a door opening, the front door. "I'll be sure to take care of her."

"Be sure to eat something too."

"Fine, fine."

"And finish up some of that paperwork too. The pile is beginning to get large again."

A sigh. "Alright, Lieutenant. I'll see you back at the offices later."

"Yes sir."

The door shuts gently. Footsteps. Waves crashing along the shore. Broken records and tainted lines. I pull the covers up a little higher to block out the cries. Those damn screams.

"Not looking too good there, Bubbles."

I don't bother to complain. No acknowledgment. No leer. Only noise. So much noise. Why won't it ever go away? Why have they returned? What are these horrid voices?

Roy eyes me worriedly, squatting at my level and trying to draw away my protective layer of sheets. Grudgingly, I resist his attempts and roll to the side, facing away. From behind, he scoffs, remaining close.

"You're not doing too well today are you?" he points out while I continue to drown out those distant sufferings. Past times I'd gone through this process, listening to the voices of the deceased, the moans of my victims, and each time they had grown more desperate, more determined to fill my head with horrendous images and sounds. It was worrisome how awful the Aerugonians appeared now. So out of the blue. Why wouldn't it stop? It's never gone this long.

"Hey," Roy says more sternly, snapping his fingers. Immediately I flinch, expecting some wall of flame to leap out at me, but I foolishly notice the lack of gloves. Startled by my fearful response, he scoots back, raising his hands in sign of harmlessness. "No gloves. It's alright."

He lowers them, softening his gaze. From this close I can note the stunning blackness of his irises. Like some endless abyss. I could fall forever in those eyes.

There's a certain beauty to it. Alluring. Inviting.

I hardly register the contact against my forehead. The warm touch of palms blanketing my temple, comfortingly.

My eyes shut and I breathe out weakly.

"You're a bit warm."

Oceans roar and seagulls nip at my brain. I can't seem to concentrate on anything but the mysteriousness of those black orbs. Something dark, I never knew could be so mesmerizing. Amazing.

"Bubbles. Say something. Your lack of insults disturbs me."

That warmth is drawn away. My head feels so much heavier without that heat, that comforting heat. I'm so lost, and the noise, the noise!

"I'm sorry."

His eyes widen and that only encourages me to continue. I have to tell him. I have to let him know how much I miss him. Have to tell him how much I love him...

"I'm...sorry.."

"Hey. Come on, we need to cool you down. You're ridiculously hot."

I shake my head violently, struggling to a seated position when Roy shoves me back down, strictly but not painfully.

"Take it easy. What do you need? I'll get it for you."

"No," I protest, reaching out to his uniform sleeve, squeezing tightly. My senses are slipping away and my vision blurs. Those pits of black morph into something brighter. Something blue. Noble blue. Sapphires.

Ritzu.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me. Please. Please forgive me. Please," I plead, tugging gently, feeling myself falling, falling, falling forward. Reflexively the figure catches me and I find myself staring at the color blue. Such noble blue.

"What are you talking about?" Ritzu asks and I bury my face into his chest.

"Make them stop. Make the voices stop."

"What voices, Misaki?"

My eyes widen and I shove the warmth away. Neck impacts furniture and the room begins to sway. With a panicked gasp, I clutch at my chest, shivering and willing away the illusion. That horrid illusion.

This isn't Ritzu. Ritzu is dead.

Misaki. They call me Misaki. He didn't call me that.

"Misaki," Roy repeats and I shudder, recognizing my surroundings. The voices leave, but with the way things are, it only makes everything worse. It's too silent. There is a lack of certain people. My people. My beloved.

"Misaki."

I hug myself, refusing to cry. Do not cry. Do not be weak. I am not fragile. I am a warrior. Papa said so.

Papa is dead.

"Misaki!"

Hands wrap around my shoulders and shake me. My head rolls forward and back and the motion clears some of the mess going on through me. With a startled blink, I gaze at the Colonel, grim faces and so terribly close.

Black orbs. Forever falling.

"Colonel," I croak weakly, placing my palms along his wrists, pulling them away. "What are you doing here?"

He breathes a sigh of relief, leaving me to wonder what had come over me. What had I said? Why was I- eh?

With a startled oof', the Colonel tumbles backwards, ramming into the table. Hands poised to strike, I glower at the man, raising a brow accusingly. He immediately reads my rashness of the situation and grumbles.

"Don't just jump to the worse possible thing…"

"What are you doing here?" I ask once again, more demanding. "And why were you so close? What'd you do?"

Closing his eyes, he rubs the back of his neck and pulls himself up to a proper seat. Uniform and all, he takes a quick glance at the nearby clock and reaches down over to a lone lunch sack. While he rummages, I notice the coolness of the room and find myself reaching around my covers, drawing them closer and shivering.

"I only came to keep an eye on you, seeing as the Lieutenant thinks you've caught something nasty," he speaks, drawing out a lone sandwich and glowering at the contents. "You're the one getting clingy to me."

"Ridiculous," I snarl, bending forward at sudden dizziness. With my hands clutching at my spinning temple, I irritably stand up and stalk over to the kitchen, dry with thirstiness. Roy was instantly on my heels.

"I told you that I'd get you something," he says, ducking at my lashing fist. "Would you just take it easy? I'm not going to do anything unprofessional."

"Shut-up!" I shout, storming further away, willing for the boy just let me be. "I'm perfectly capable with getting my own damn cup, so just back off!"

"Alright, alright," he relents, clearly disapproving. "But don't come crying to me if you end up landing on your head and break something."

"Whatever."

At that, he went back to his distasteful pouting with his lunch and I went on to bowing over the counter, lightly dabbing at my face and pulling away to reveal sweat. A ton of it. I'd brought the blanket with me, yet even so, I was still freezing, not to mention famished. If what the Colonel said was true, that I'd been the one to get so uncomfortably close, why was it I couldn't seem to gain control of my memories?

"Are you hungry? I can cook you up something if you don't mind me offering it without you assuming it's poison."

Gritting my teeth, I suddenly feel myself going beet red. With another wave of not so very lady like words, I reach up to the nearest cabinet, relieved to find Riza was at least beginning to entrust me with the dangerous storage, and snatch an empty cup. I don't notice the trembling of my grip and before I could process what happened, pieces of glass were on the ground, a couple of shards nicking my exposed ankles.

Roy dashes on in, blinking astonishingly at me.

Perhaps the sniper was right to keep me away from everything.

"Are you alright there, clumsy?" he asks in a friendly enough gesture. I glare at him.

"Dandy."

He looks over at the mess I'd made, frowning. As I bend down to begin the cleaning process, he interrupts me by extending out his bare hand, cutting me off. I open my mouth to protest when he casts a silencing expression and makes to grab me. Instinctively I dodge the gesture only to fall right into his arms. He knew I wouldn't be too keen on the idea of being touched, so here I was, stuck in his arms, writhing around angrily.

"Put. Me. Down." I warn, pushing against him and desperately seeking a way to escape. He rolls his eyes, walks for a bit while enduring my relentless fights, then roughly plops me down on the sofa. Furiously, I scramble to a seated position, waiting for an opportunity to punch and flee were he to try anything funny, but instead he returns to the kitchen, turning on the faucet. Puzzled, I crane my neck to find him wetting a small towel, squeezing it, testing its sturdiness. When he comes back, I ready to get up.

"You're getting blood all over the carpet."

My eyes shoot down to take in the flecks of red decorating my sore ankles. Sure enough, the glass had left its mark and now I was really leaving behind a gruesome mess. Looking back at the Colonel, I finally realize his intentions and reluctantly relax into the cushions, frowning at the clump of fabric resting in his hand.

"I think I can manage a measly patch up, Colonel," I assure bitterly, raising my foot as to not get Riza's place too revolting. Roy rolls his eyes before snatching my calf and lifting it to a point of resting on his own thigh. The action was unexpected and so I ended up allowing it to happen, blinking dumbfoundedly at him gently wiping at my wound.

It wasn't long before the shock wore off.

"Wait a second," I hiss, struggling to separate myself from his grasp. He's a persistent one, however, and so I awkwardly sit with one leg resting on the man, and the other pushing from the ground beside him. No progress is being made with this uncomfortable attempt at freedom, and so I begrudgingly scowl at the top of his head, holding in the small winces of pain at his every swipe. At my defeated stillness, the Colonel checks up on me to make sure I was actually alive before continuing on to his roleplay of doctor. I hold my tongue and find interest in a piece of lint. A part of me worries being this vulnerable was a big mistake, the other, well I wasn't entirely sure what it felt. Did I actually somewhat feel comfort at having close contact with another being?

Grimacing, I shake my mind of the absurd possibility. Of course not.

"Honestly. Could you not try biting my head off for once?"

"Hmm, tempting, but I think I'll stick with my precautions," I snap at the Colonel, yelping as a sharp sting gnaws its way up my leg. "Watch it!"

"Well, it'd be a hell of a lot easier if you'd just keep quiet and still," he grumbles, extracting gauze from a bag I'd failed to notice. It seemed lately my senses have become a bit lacking. Perhaps I had some training to catch up on.

"Yes, let me just roll over and play dead while you're at it," I reply sarcastically, earning an irritable scowl. At that moment he splashes a bit of rubbing alcohol into the opening. "OUCH." He rolls his eyes yet again.

"You handled a cauterizing just fine. This should be nothing."

With a growl, I wait until he's bandaged up my ankle, rather poorly, before swiping at him with a nail, slicing a measly cut into his finger. Being as quick as I was, it took him a moment to process what happened. When the blood slowly begins to pool together at his tip, he clutches his hand to his chest, twisting his face in an expression of suffering.

"What the hell?!"

"You handled a beating from me, this is nothing!"

Angrily huffing, he pokes at my ankle, triggering another pitiful yelp and earning another swipe from my nail.

"Nothing is ever easy with you is it?" he complains, ducking as I try to make a hit at his ear. My lack of accuracy only provokes me to continue swinging. "Would you stop? You're going to screw up that arm of yours again."

"Piss off!"

"I'm already pissed off as it is!"

"That's not what I meant, mule!"

At my next strike, he catches it, tightening his grip and blocking my other arm. This only ticks me off even more and so I start to kick out at his stomach when I suddenly went out of breath. Like a switch being flicked, my energy was gone and my lungs were dead weight.

"Idiot," he says, helping me to my side on the sofa. Panting, I tug away from his grip and glare to my hearts content. He shows no sign of noticing it. Slowly he redoes the bandages, as I had tangled them during my fit, and secures them with a roll of medical tape. When he finishes, I stare at the result and give him a look of disbelief.

"What? Is it not to your liking, princess?" he asks, leering, but then stopping to acknowledge my change of expression.

"Don't...Don't call me that," I demand, lowering my eyes. When I note my obvious disapproval of the name, I try to cover it up with an added "Mule," snapping my head up in a fearsome scowl.

Roy narrows his eyes, not taking the bait, but thankfully doesn't press into my personal matters.

Instead he pokes at my ankle again, frowning at my startled exclamation.

"Would you stop?" I snap, drawing my legs to my chest and shimmy ing back up to lean against the armrest. "Why are you still here? Get out!"

He rubs at his temple, sighing to the side. "Honestly, I already told you I came-"

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupt, frustrated. "Check up on poor beat up me, I know, I know. But now you see I'm fine and swell and such so do please go home."

"You are most definitely not 'fine and swell and such'," he argues, taking a seat across from me and pulling out a stack of gross looking papers. "In fact, the fact that you're still conscious and complaining with a fever like that, I'm surprised you're not dead."

"You-" I stop, going clueless. My hand automatically goes to my forehead, pulling back stunningly at the intense wave of heat. I'd barely touched skin and my palm now practically felt ablaze. "What in the-?" I look at the Colonel, baffled. He takes the first sheet from his pile of work, pulling out a pen while simultaneously unwrapping his sandwich. When his eyes meet back with mine and notice the utter confusion, he takes a bite out of his meal and stares back at his stuff with an audible click.

"I hope you're not thinking that I caused it just because I'm a flame alchemist," he mutters under his breath, scribbling something on the table. "Because that would be stupid."

I scrunch up my temple annoyingly. "Of course I don't think that," I assure, shaking my head at him for even mentioning such a ridiculous thing for me to believe. "As I recall, you're useless and useless people couldn't possibly do something like inflict a fever."

I watch his fingers around the pen tighten and the scribbling comes to a standstill.

"That's only when I'm wet..." he mumbles.

"Right."

With that he continues his work and I remain in my spot, blinking at his grim expression. Flicking my gaze back over to the stack, I really take notice of how demanding his job must be.

Good. The bastard needed something worthwhile to do anyways. Save people the trouble of dealing with his idiotic ways.

It's apparent our small fight has ended, somewhat peacefully. I can't explain why I went on with staring at the man, but when he took a moment at some point to check up on me, I went tense, snapping my attention away to the kitchen behind him. Huffing loud enough for me to hear, he taps his writing utensil against the wooden furniture, clicking and unclicking to some horrid rhythm. He looks back at his pile, taking another nibble at his food, thinking.

Click. Click.

I randomly remember his urgency from yesterday with asking me to move in with him. Flustered, I squeeze my eyes and shake off the memory, furious with myself for even acting as though it were something important enough to recall. Disgusting. The man was only being a typical pervert. It wasn't as if he were trying to... protect me from something?

Click. Click.

Bah! How ludicrous.

I rest my chin on my knees, staring at nothing and ignoring the radiating heat from my body. Thanks to his kind intentions, I was now officially well aware of how horrible I felt, like a baking potato. Hot. Unbearably hot.

Click. Click.

I find myself glancing at the Colonel's paperwork, catching a brief look at his signature. In a way it's pretty, if sloppy, illegible cursive is considerably attractive. Nothing like his physique.

He looks back up at me and again I find myself avoiding his gaze.

W-Wait.

My face pales when I go over my recent thoughts.

Had I just admitted to myself just how attractive the Colonel was?

Click. Click.

Oh man. This fever was really getting to me.

Click. Click.

And he's still looking at me. I could actually feel his stare piercing straight through the core. What gives?

Click. Click.

A challenge. Did he want a challenge, perhaps? Did he dare me to have a stare down with him? Well then by all means, a challenge he shall get. I would not go easy on him. I'd stare him down to hell if I had to!

I glare at him, willing myself not to turn away or blink, but to my embarrassment, he'd already gone back to his paperwork, leaving me to awkwardly shake off my childish behavior and look more sophisticated. Or non-retarded. Either was fine. Just as long as he didn't witness my wide-eyed stare of determination.

...Why is it every time I'm with this man I seem to lose all my wits?

Click. Click.

Okay. That pen needed to stop.

Click. Click.

Seriously. I get that maybe you're getting frustrated or something, but really?

Click. Click.

Click it one more damn time, Colonel. I freaking dare you.

Silence. His face knots up in deep concentration and he lightly bites his bottom lip.

Thank go-

CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK.

"Hey!" I snap, eyebrow twitching. "Knock it off!"

I mistake his obliviousness for simply ignoring me and angrily snatch away his pen, slamming it down onto the table with a startling 'SLAM'. Jumping, he blinks at me, then quirks his brow questionably.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asks calmly and I lean into his face, snarling.

"Your clicking charade wasn't very entertaining for the ears."

He looks annoyed, reaching back out to the writing tool to which I quickly pull away from his reach.

"Really, Bubbles?" he sighs impatiently, putting his hand into his pocket to reveal another pen. I make sure to make a grab at that too. Surprisingly, he loses it without much resistance, reflecting my expression. Something troublesome must have invaded his mind while he was working. I glance down at his papers, curious of its contents. Of course, I make sure to correct him on my name before considering to engage in a new topic.

That reminded me of our earlier weirdness. Hadn't he called me by my name for the first time? Or had that been my imagination?

"Can't we be adults here?" he says, sounding suddenly exhausted and I pocket the pens, hoping he wouldn't reach back into his bottomless stash of god knows what.

"Let's face it, Colonel," I say not so aggressively, which was really out of character for me. "When it's between the two of us, nothing has been the least bit 'adult-like'."

He looks ready to complain, but mulls over what I've said. There's no denying how immature we seem to be when dealing with one another.

"Okay," he complies, defeated. "But either way, I'd like to have my things back so I can keep my life from the clutches of the Lieutenant." He extends his palm, expecting me to hand it over without comment. I almost laugh.

I gesture at his stash with my eyes. "What are you working on?"

He looks surprised by my interest, but then warily raises a brow.

"Are you suddenly wanting to join the military?" he asks.

"What?" I respond, caught off guard. "N-No. Of course not. Why would I want to serve for the Amestris army? Do you really think I'd be that dedicated to what my people once referred to as enemy?"

It takes a second for me to realize my usage of people. So many wrong ways I used it in that sentence. "My." "Once." "Dedicated."

For a moment I lose face, but quickly recover. Roy pretends not to notice.

"Then why do you care about what I'm doing? It has nothing to do with your country."

So he uses it in a way that sounds like Aerugo is still a living, working civilization. Why does that make me feel grateful? It probably was just force of habit. He didn't purposely avoid reminding me of it's extinction.

I mentally slap myself awake.

"You just seem...troubled."

He eyes me curiously.

"Is that sympathy I detect?"

Reddening, I clench my teeth and pull my hands into fists.

"Hell no! It's just unbearably hideous, that lost, ignorant face of yours you were putting on," I snap, averting my eyes. Roy puts up an arm to his chin, resting it on the tabletop.

"Oh? Is that why you kept on staring at me?"

With an agitated groan, I take out the pens and throw them at his face, hitting nose and mouth. I was too pissed to celebrate however, so I went onto curling back on the couch and tuning out the Colonel's swears.

Easier said than done.

"That temper of yours is going to get you into some serious trouble," he says bitterly, already diving back into his mountain load of mystery military work. The Lieutenant must really be a frightening lady when dealing with procrastinators.

"You don't think it already has?" I point out, suddenly overcome with disturbing images of the past. Instantly I go into defensive mode and shut down, closing the lid to my secrets before they exploded into an irreparable mess.

Roy observes my sullen mood, glancing over at the clock. I note his uneaten sandwich with a series of random questions. Pointless ones like: Did he take the time to eat? Is he healthy? Did he ever get sleep?

When I realize the similarities, I feel myself flush. What? Why would I care?!

"What's wrong?" Roy asks, catching my gaze back within his dark orbs. "You're awfully white."

Defensively, I snap, "Blame it on the temper would you?"

"That...Doesn't really make any sense," he says, unsure of how to take my flimsy burst of anger. Then again, neither was I. There was something comforting about having him come visit me during his lunch break, although I kind of hope he'll finish the sandwich.

...

Fever. It's just the fever, is all.

* * *

_**Hello!:)**_

_**Thanks all for reading, as usual!**_

_**So yeah... here was some Mustang as I promised! ^.^ Again, I'm making these chapters a bit shorter as to update more often, so the endings may be a tad bit abrupt, so I'm sorry for that!**_

_**Still, I hope you enjoy:D**_

_**Wonder14 over and out!**_


	19. Troubling New Experiences

_He was late. Again._

_The lights were cast low, the wind whispering nightly secrets, the Palace standing tall and proud. I'd been waiting here, at our place, tracing patterns into the dirt with a nearby fallen branch. He'd told me to arrive here at this time, when the people were sleeping and stars were out. Yet where was he? Late. As usual._

_Or perhaps I was too early? _

_I went red, shoving the end of the branch more roughly into the ground. Curse him. Curse him. Curse him!_

_When the object in my hands snaps, I jolt back a few feet, huffing from the sudden explosion of adrenaline. Feeling foolish, I clutch at my chest and sigh, tending to the quivering of my lips. Whether I was fighting back a smile or an irritated scowl, I wasn't entirely certain. However I did note the second presence behind me, laughing quietly to himself._

_I swiveled around, tucking away the humiliation, then stop to find it had actually been a "her". And not just any "her"._

_"N-Naomi! What are you doing here?" I whisper, failing to hide the panic rising in my voice. If she stayed here any longer..._

_Her eyes crinkled in pure delight as she stepped beneath the luminous sky. With a finger she pointed accusingly at me and wagged with feign agitation. _

_"Well, what'd you expect? You've been acting so strange, sneaking off through the night and not bothering to tell me what sort of meetings you've been having." She takes a second to approach, placing her hands threateningly on her hips. When I rolled my eyes, she scoffed. "You're too easy to track, K. You should be thanking me."_

_"For what?" I hissed, stepping forward to begin propelling her back into the shadows and away. She simply evaded my attempt, jumping to the side and narrowing her eyes._

_"Now you'll know to be more careful about stalkers."_

_I nodded vigorously, dashing behind her and placing my palms on her back. Cold sweat beaded the base of my neck and I feared my company would soon increase, and I really didn't feel like dealing with explanation and introduction. Especially when it involved a scandalous freak like Naomi._

_"Okay, yes, yes. Thank you, oh great friend of mine, now would you just go on and leave? These people don't take too friendly to strangers, you see?"_

_"Oh?" she sang, turning to capture my wrists. "Then this'll be exciting. How wonderful! You really know how to make a friend feel loved." With that, she danced over to the midst of the rooftop, bringing me along. Despite my blabbering and persistent excuses to avoid having to deal with the supposed "madmen", she cackled with excitement, telling me to hush, and waited patiently for her expected company._

_It wasn't long until Ritzu finally made an appearance._

_"Sorry, sorry. I was held up again," he explained, giving the same words he always gave for being late at our meetups. To my sheer embarrassment, I realize how slow he was to notice Naomi was not, in fact, me who was hidden behind her trying to peel away from her shockingly powerful grip. And because of my horrid position, I couldn't be too sure on how well my friend was taking the situation. All I could tell was she was eerily silent. Almost non-existent silent. Which was terrifying because for years I'd been searching for ways to come across this very silence to no avail. But now that her mouth had finally shut, I feared her mind was malfunctioning._

_"But! I made sure to bring along a surprise for you!" Ritzu continued to go off excitedly, withdrawing a lone basket, brimming with goods. If it had been just the two of us, I probably would have showered him with hugs. However, with our uninvited guest, I wasn't willing to give her any reasons to assume the worst._

_Why Naomi of all people?_

_"Who..." my friend eventually finds the strength to murmur. I cringed to myself, envisioning the rage she must be going through, noting that her best friend, sworn to be uninterested about men, had been with a male for the past several months without muttering a single word. "Who the hell is this?"_

_"Hmm?" Ritzu suddenly and finally realized the shadow he'd been speaking to had not been the one he was expecting. With a paling face, of which even I could see in this pitch blackness, he stumbled back, searching the scene for my whereabouts. There being no reason to hide and will this nightmare away, I pushed away from my still-in-shock friend, walking up to Ritzu's panic-stricken fit._

_Naomi abruptly snatches my wrist once more, yanking me back in her direction. With a startled 'oof', I tried tugging away only to come face to face with her mortified expression. Her jaw practically skims the ground, and her eyes dart back and forth frantically between Ritzu and I, processing._

_"Who the hell is this?" she says again, her voice going shrill. Ritzu, from behind me, shifts his weight between his feet, waiting for my say on the problem at hand. He seemed to ask whether to go right to the confession, or skip to the denial. Quite frankly, denial sounded pretty tempting, however this was Naomi, and I should have known she was bound to figure this out sooner or later._

_I sighed, puckering my lips._

_"Naomi," I addressed carefully, scared she'd suddenly go rabid and rip my head off were I to upset her any further. "This is Ritzu. Ritzu, this is Naomi." I slipped away from her grip, suddenly going slack. With a gesture toward Ritzu, still silent and unsure of how to react, I make sure to add, "Oh, and before you go on with your downpour of questions, yes, he is indeed a boy."_

_She said nothing, staring at him, mouth still wide open. This was exactly why I didn't want to go through this ordeal._

_"Good evening, Miss Naomi," Ritzu went off in his charming manner, daring a few steps forward and making his ridiculous bow. I rolled my eyes. "Yes, it is as my dearest Fujiin claims. I am indeed of the male species." He took a moment to flash a set of visibly white teeth, rising back up to standing. "Well, at least I should be, the last time I checked."_

_Naomi continued to say nothing, slowly shutting her mouth close. Grateful to see she was at least breathing, I shook my head, remembering the basket Ritzu had brought for me. Selfishly, I considered just leaving the two to their own introductions and gorge down the fruit._

_"Madam?" Ritzu spoke with concern, noting the severity of Naomi's reaction. My lips formed a straight, neutral line._

_"Careful," I warned, pocketing my hands, eyeing the food. "With the way you normally talk, that could be your one way ticket to ending up walking down the aisle with her."_

_Strange. I would have expected Naomi to at least flip out about that one. She remained dead to the world._

_"I'm afraid as sweet as your friend may be, I have no interests of going down that path with anyone other than y-"_

_I cut his sentence off too late. "D-Don't say ridiculous things so freely," I stuttered, flustered, my fingers laced over his mouth. Slowly I turned to check up on Naomi. What I witnessed was the great revival._

_Her eyes widened, something I thought to be inhuman with the great size they were already at, and there was a blinding flash of light within them. _

_I braced for impact._

_"Is he...?" Her eyes seemed to pool with...tears? A hand shot to her lips in emotional disbelief, and I found myself sweating bullets. It was official. I had no idea what to expect from here on out. Everything Naomi had in store for me was a mystery. Either she'd kill me, or she'd tick me off to a new, dangerous level._

_Ritzu seemed to be enjoying himself._

_"Is he..." Naomi went off again, her lips trembling. "Is he your lover-?!"_

_"No," I answered quickly at around the same time Ritzu answered "Yes."_

_I glared at him, vowing to have an unpleasant discussion later. He grinned back, suggesting otherwise._

_"Kaze..." Naomi whined, growing sickeningly soft. "My girl.. My girl is finally..." She swallowed dramatically, getting all choked up while I felt the need to relieve of my stomach. "My girl is finally turning into a woman!"_

_"Wha-?!" I exclaimed, going tomato red. As Ritzu began to burst into loud laughter, I spun towards him, grabbing his shoulders and thrashing him about. "Shut up! What are you laughing about?!" I faced Naomi. "And what sort of nonsense are you spewing?!"_

_She sobered up, sighing as though I were the one being ridiculous. _

_"Finally you have yourself a boy-"_

_"He and I are not-!"_

_"-and yet you're as daft as ever," Naomi fumed, strutting over to where Ritzu stood, ensnared in my furious clutches, grinning stupidly like he had won a prize. With a hearty pat, Naomi clasps her own hands on his shoulders, brightening at the feel of his brawny build. For a tad second, something like an oven overheating comes over me and I have the need to strangle her. Immediately she caught on._

_"See that? Right there? Just now you had this sudden desire to strangle me, didn't you?" _

_I blinked at her, stunned. "How did you-?"_

_She makes a booming sort of laugh, waving my attempts at speech off. "Elementary my dear. What you felt was perhaps one of the most common emotions in the art of love-"_

_"I am not in l-"_

_"-one of the most tragically powerful possessors-"_

_"Hey!"_

_"-the persistent, territorial, demonic companion-"_

_"WOULD YOU-"_

_"-of our womanly instincts, our dearest jealousy," she finished, looking proud and oblivious to my darkened, homicidal aura. Ritzu suddenly looked smug. He clapped in a loud, slow motion, acting impressed. _

_"Oh... I see. Fujiin," he acknowledged me, looking apologetic. "I never would have guessed. I'm so sorry for all the times you've had to endure such horrid feelings for me."_

_"Shut up!" I yelled, my face going tingly and weird. "And you," I hissed at Naomi, huffing. "Wait just a freaking minute. You're making so many assumptions, it's making me nauseous. We," I make a mad gesture between Ritzu and I, "are _not _a couple. Understand?"_

_"So how close are the two of you really?" Naomi asked Ritzu, completely blowing me off. He shrugged, enjoying this far too much._

_"I've constantly tried convincing her these meet ups are more commonly known as dates," he hinted, casting a charmingly disgusting wink my way. Sourly I glared at him, swallowing the swelling bubble within my belly. Meanwhile Naomi nearly exploded with delight. Her eyes bulged out and her gleeful squeaks commenced. Urgently I pressed a finger to my lips._

_"Shh. You'll wake up the whole town!"_

_She seemed to not give a crap. "So? Let them wake! My baby, THE Kaze, boy in a girl body, has finally awoken!" She jumped over to me, gripping my shoulders, shaking, suggesting a blossoming insanity. "Who wouldn't want to witness this glorious day?!"_

_Ritzu snorted and I shook my friend away, glowering. _

_"Quite being dramatic," I grumbled, avoiding Ritzu's penetrating stare. Naomi, ever the observant one, picked up on the tension, grinning mischievously._

_"Oh. Oh I see now. Yes, this does seem very Kaze-like..."_

_I raised a brow, cocking my head confusingly. "And what is that supposed to mean, Nao?" I asked tiredly. She replied with a single, consulting pat on Ritzu's shoulder. _

_"She's a stubborn one, but if she's willing to hang around you this comfortably, then I'm rooting for you, pal."_

_Surprised, Ritzu recovered, smiling as if given the best present in the world. He bowed, looking up at her gratefully, leaving me to froth with a gnawing frustration._

_"Thank you for your blessing, Madam Naomi." He glanced over at me. I looked away, frowning. "I'll be sure to never rest until she breathes those three words that will melt my heart."_

_With a jolt, I gawked at him in horror, shielding my warming face from Naomi who was building up her powerful squeals of giddy delight. Ritzu, continuing to smile his innocent smile, gazed at me lovingly, sending me signals that proved his seriousness. And just how was I supposed to react?_

_"Oh my heavens," my friend breathed, fanning herself, swooning. "Kaze." She widened her eyes, spread her lips in a gleeful manner. "You absolutely mustn't keep this wonderful man waiting!"_

_"What are you-? N-No!" I stumbled away from the two, creasing my brow in disapproval. The rate things were going, I was certain to explode with overwhelming. This was the nightmare of all nightmares. What I needed was a good spar. Yes, I should go beat some sense into some people. Clear my head up a little. But before I could land a good punch into the nearest person (which happened to be Naomi), Ritzu made sure to sneak up and land a quick, almost dismissive peck to the cheek._

"_Yes," he whispered into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. "I'm not the most patient man, especially when it comes to you."_

_In twelve seconds flat, Naomi and Ritzu were on the ground, one going ballistic with awe and the other laughing while rubbing the sore spot on his chest where I had shoved him away, while I was halfway down the streets, seeking a dark shelter to forget of the troubling tremors shooting through my pounding chest._

* * *

**_Hello all!_**

**_So terribly sorry it's been a while, but I'm afraid that school has started for me and I've official survived my first week of Senior year! *epic applause*_**

**_Football games are soooooooooooo terribly long and well... I just had to go do the usual ritual of chugging down pixie after pixie stick and going on another all-time high (woo-hoo!)_**

_**I'm fairly certain my director now hates my guts. OH WELL. **_

_**I hope to see that I haven't lost any fans due to my lack of updating... *fingers crossed***_

_**Welp, I'm working on some more Mustang, I assure you! This here is just a fun little snippet of Misaki's first experience with her blossoming emotions (ooooooooh) So yup. She's a bit terrible when it comes to confrontation in the love cycle (just as I am!) and she tends to head straight for the "punch them and run" strategy (which I assure you I don't do... anymore)**_

_**As always, I enjoy sharing her roller coaster of a love tale with you guys! I can't wait until Mustang has her within his clutches (heh heh)**_

_**Misaki: "..."**_

_**I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING FMA. Just my terribly oblivious to her own feelings Fujiin :D yayyy~~**_

_**Thank you!**_


	20. Time is of Patience and Strength

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Ebbing away. Floating about. Too quick. Too slow.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Without it we are lost, in a panic.

"What time is it?"

"It's getting late."

"I must be off now."

Tick. Tick. Tick.

With it, we're afraid of what's to come in the next second. We're frightened of changes. Losses.

"I'm getting old."

"Time flies when you're having fun!"

"Happy birthday, Papa."

Tick. Tick.

We expect and brace for death.

Tick. Tick.

Times I've wondered the point to life and living. My mind frequently pondered the reason to preparing for great and minor goals, simply never accomplishing or achieving what will only be lost.

Tick. Tock.

Times I wonder, why struggle through the pain and suffering for perhaps a single moment of greatness and an entire future of oblivion?

Tick. Tick.

Why do I exist here as this tiny, insignificant speck? What's the point to it all?

Tick. Tock.

We all end up dying anyway.

Tick. Tick.

To strive for ruler or discovering a new place, it all seemed futile to me.

Oblivion.

You succeed and have all that you've done taken.

A distant memory.

The land is remembered. The new king is worshipped. Only a few can truly remember your name, your personality.

_"Who are you?"_

_"I used to know."_

You're left with nothing in the end.

_"We're solving bloodshed with more bloodshed."_

_No_.

_Survivor._

Nothing but the curse of a thousand lifetimes. The curse of the dead. The curse of a mistake.

The curse of never forgetting you're alive while others aren't.

"Murderer."

Immortality is a cruel, horrid thing.

Tick. Tock. Tock.

Why have a beginning when there's an assured end?

Tick. Tock.

Why hope for an end when you're condemned to a lifetime?

Tick...tick...t..i..c..k

Why not end it all before the pain is realized?

t...i...c...k...

Let the wind whisk away the traces of our existence. Spread us across the land where we may rest, forevermore, in the solitude of silence and ignorant bliss.

t...i...c...k

Stop time.

...

Disappear.

* * *

"Do you miss it?"

I gaze down at the Colonel continuing to scribble, curious as to know what brought on the question. Here we'd been going on a streak, keeping to ourselves, he working, I resting and occasionally observing him. Now out of the blue, he wants to poke through my secrets?

"What do you mean?" I ask, immersing myself in the act of picking at my fingernails. From time to time, I'd risk a quick peek at his working state, catching myself in the act and absurdly scowling at his scalp. There was no reason to respond. No reason to invite discussion.

"I'm sure you're able to guess," he retorts, hardly passing a narrow glance. That pen of his continues to move, swallowing the room in its disorganized waves of noise. The clock beside me thunders heavy clicks, clashing with the scrawls of the Colonel's notes. Somewhere in the distance, a heartbeat gasps, a lung deflates.

With a piercing gaze between the comforts of my hugged knees, I take in his unchanging approach, his undeniably obvious trade for a piece of me by resorting to pretend lack of interest.

The pen continues scratching away. I eye the nibbled sandwich. Look back towards the man.

Clockwork distracts my thoughts. Memories weave confusingly through loose holes and broken floorboards.

I see Papa peering into my soul with such empty, empty eyes.

Riza holding a gun to my head while I attempted to mend her spine. The empty click.

Ritzu writhing on the floor, disfigured. Suffering. Pleading for release.

I don't have to answer. There is no presence saying I must do so. He is not demanding I speak.

"No."

The writing stops for a moment and I don't flinch at his deep, alluring irises gazing through my own. There's a certain understanding there. A faint message in those pupils, seeking comfort in a shared discomfort. Two dark paths accepting one another.

I blink.

There are also traces of surprise. He hadn't expected an answer, as blunt as it was. Perhaps this is the most trusting I've ever appeared. The friendliest we've ever been toward each other.

But am I being completely honest with myself? Do I truly detest every piece of the past of me that belonged to what was once called home?

I avert my eyes, reconsidering.

Naomi and I lying beneath the stars. Ritzu trying to protect me from the merchant, barely escaping with a broken nose. Mom sewing my cloak. Papa standing above me, hand extended, saying for the hundredth time, "again".

His pen goes off once more, breaking the edges of tension.

How could I have so easily dismissed those many wonderful times, compared to the few horrid? Disgrace the ones I loved, the place I loved, with measly excuses of viewing it as the birthplace of self loathing?

Aerugo was where I learned to love. Where I learned to fight. Dream. Laugh. Defend. Live.

"Yes," I breathe.

Roy pauses once more, this time setting his personal agenda aside and folding his hands beneath his chin. The sandwich remained forgotten. Unfinished. I'm wondering how much time remains in his lunching hour. How little he's eaten.

The randomness of these curiosities are absurd. I try clearing my mind when he sends me question after question through his stone hard expressions. The most obvious: "Why do you hesitate? Uncertainty? What have you been through?"

It's too many at once, too loud to hear. With an unstable intake of air, I shudder. Skin begins to feel prickly. Ice cold. Frigid. No, I'm shivering. The temperature has dropped so dangerously low and my teeth are chattering.

It's happening. I'm becoming what I've feared. I'm going to freeze into a wintry hell. No warmth will remain of me. The heat will vanish. My body won't be my own.

I'm turning into the girl of white.

"Misaki?"

"It's hard to give a solid answer," I say, appreciative of his willingness to speak my name correctly. Although a minor thing, it's almost startling how wonderful the syllables sound coming from a voice like his. A confident tone. Solid ground. Certain. "It's not like it'll do me any good to figure it out, anyways."

I exhale shakily. Icy shards. Frozen promises. Freezing spirits.

Roy says nothing. He picks up his pen. Starts writing again.

For some reason, this disappoints me. It disappoints me to a point of wanting nothing more than to sink through the sofa. Dissolve into indistinguishable particles. Fade to non existence.

Fending against these insecurities, I struggle for air. Purpose. Seek none.

"You're absolutely right."

I listen to the ticking seconds, the soft screeches of pen against paper. His eyes aren't visible, but I have the feeling he's paying more attention than it seems.

"Your point being...?" I ask, awaiting an explanation. He sighs and all the excess noise suddenly muffle into the background.

He leans back, marveling his pile of work. Black orbs lift to my own plain stare. The pen drops from his fingers onto the table.

"It won't do you any good to figure out your feelings for the past."

The pen rolls to the floor. Neither of us move.

If this were Naomi, she'd no doubt shake the stony expression on my face. If this were Papa, he'd probably lend me his hand and whisper those same words that kept me going. If this were Ritzu...

He'd be taking the words out of Roy's mouth.

"You're..." I speak, swallowing the dryness down my throat. I'm still cold, but the Flame before me makes it a little more bearable. "You're not so much of a mule as I thought you were."

And with those words struggling their way from my lips, something wonderfully new occurred within the Colonel's face. Incredibly stunning, it almost stole away my breath.

A genuine smile.

Mockingly, he performs a bow from his seated stature, piercing the core of my heart.

"Glad to see you've realized it, Miso," he says.

"Miso?" I echo. He nods, glancing at the time. By the way he remains in his spot, still, I understand his lunch remaining lengthy enough for more chit chat. Surprisingly, I was perfectly fine with the possibility. Even if my mind wasn't set straight, I was almost eager to stay in this man's presence.

When he went off on a ramble of my newly received nickname, I simply nodded and shot an assortment of expressions, never really putting in a huge say on my part. Occasionally I found myself throwing an insult, and occasionally he'd fire one back. The paperwork was forgotten as was the sandwich. But more importantly, the constant ticks of the clock that we seemed to have listened to so intensely before was now a distant memory. Replacing was the low rumbles of his deep and powerful voice and the growing boldness of my livening state. There were times of passionate debates and moments of trivial small talk, none of which was remotely close to the first conversations we'd had in the forest. No, those seemed like an eternity away. Now, almost pieces of me felt as though this man were simply a lost friend and this was our reunion.

I didn't know whether the thought pleased or terrified me.

"This reminds me of a time when Hughes and I..."

"You mean to tell me you've never had moon cakes?"

"You do strike me as one of those feisty, don't act like the other girls, type."

"Yeah, you could say I'm a bit of a slacker."

"What do you mean by that? Are you implying I enjoy being scolded by the Lieutenant?"

At some points, I hardly realized my mouth slipping, letting out bits of my childhood. Minor things such as experiences I missed out on, or my bizarre behavior around all my classmates, my boyish preferences. And in exchange, he'd make sure to tell me some of his own unimportant traits, stories, and opinions.

"That explains your weird choice of attires I suppose."

"Well, if I had spark enhanced gloves, I'd probably burn myself too. But probably not as frequently as you have."

"You're an idiot."

It was the usual coldness, yet completely different. My remarks lacked the blades and his speech was seemingly deprived of his usual formality and aggressiveness. We were only two individuals, speaking our minds, listening for enjoyment, and not thinking about the offices or worrying for the future.

Times I almost smiled. Almost smiled for my own benefit rather than for others.

It'd been a while since I could manage something as simple as that. It's sad when I think about it.

"You know, you've won the Hughes' hearts in a matter of days," Roy points out, dismissing his previous package of work rants. "You're all I hear about now when I visit."

"Really?" My voice lifts suspiciously at the end, wondering what he's hoping to hear as my reply. "Funny how the same can't be said about you."

He laughs away the insult. "Yes, well that's no surprise. Maes grew sick of me as I've grown tired over him years ago."

Not understanding the concept of his facetiousness, I frown. "How is it you refer to each other as friends then if you're so accustomed to treating each other so poorly?" I think back to Naomi, recalling all the times I'd bullied her, making sure to eventually assure her I never meant a cruel word. Regarding Roy and Maes, I'd never seen the two pat each other jokingly on the back or reassure one another of their pretend offense. Really, were it not for their claims to friendship, I'd probably have distinguished them as sworn enemies, stuck together for career purposes.

Roy seems to realize my poor evaluation skills, pulling back a sneaking grin.

"Rest assure little one..." He brightens at my clenching jaw, knowing I didn't appreciate the hinted short reference. "We may not appear the closest of friends, but trust me, we're practically brothers."

Just as Naomi and I had been like sisters I suppose.

"I see."

Without warning, I erupt into a frenzied coughing fit. When the moment eventually passes, I take in Roy's look of concern. A random thought clogs it's way in my mind, taking absolute control of my voice.

"Do you remember when you told me about your... sight?"

At first he scrunches up in confusion, sorting through his thoughts. Once recognition lights his eyes, I continue. "Do you..." I pause, recalling yesterday's bizarre conversation, then reddening. "Ah, never mind." Roy doesn't stand for it.

"No, no," he prods. "Continue. Do I what?"

I recall the way he was so animated in the telling of his first impression of me, the way his eyes flickered with life and his corners twitched in remembrance. How could I bring up such a heart felt moment again? Like my own heart could take it...

I recall the way he was so animated in the telling of his first impression of me, the way his eyes flickered with life and his corners twitched in remembrance. How could I bring up such a heart felt moment again? Like my own heart could take it…

"It's nothing really," I stand firmly.

"It's not exactly pleasant to be disdirected like that," he fumes. "Surely it's something important to you if you brought it up in the first place."

I don't deny the fact.

"It's nothing important enough to say," I try defending as he pockets his hands, shooting a look that said : Nice try.

With a sigh, I ponder if what I wanted to say was going to make me look like I was attracted to him. The boy had verified being a womanizer, so anything I say or show could be used against me.

Drained, I shudder myself of the thought.

"Alright," I start, shifting to a more dignified position, gazing up and away. Already my heart starts hammering. Though my body remains freezing, my face gradually takes on to a more tropical temperature, leaving me to fear the possibility of having to explain my changing color. The reason for what made me so riled up still boggles me. There wasn't anything relatively embarrassing about what Roy had said the other day, at least I didn't think so.

I frown to myself, pulling my wits back in one place.

"I want to know if…" I pause, nearly retreating from the intensity of these syllables leaking out. "Do you… I mean… How should I put this without sounding like a freak?"

Gravely, Roy leans forward, shadows looming over his eyes.

"Are you confessing?" he asks, ducking beneath the pillow I'd launched at him.

"Never mind," I snap. He chuckles, reaching out for the plush object, hugging it to his chest in a poor imitation of someone at the edge of his seat, eager to hear what it was I had to say. Irritated, I whistle through my teeth and rolly my eyes.

"I'm only easing the tension, Miso," he says teasingly, drawing back to a more military-like pose. "Now, what is it you're wanting to know?"

What I wanted to ask was if he still saw it. That so called blazing flame he ridiculously commented on as being beautiful. I desired to know whether or not I had a chance to let that fire grow, and if he could really see there being a chance of it burning at its brightest. Whether it would ignite the tangled vines netting my courageousness. I'd like to learn if it'd thaw the icy doubt lodged in my chest. Could I actually amount to something great?

I wanted to ask him all these things, but of course, I refrain from doing so.

"When are you supposed to be heading back?" I ask, changing the subject. To my relief, Roy passes a disappointed look, holding back his bubbling array of questions.

He takes a look at the clock and jolts to his feet, rubbing his forehead frantically. Obviously time had gotten the best of him. The Colonel was late.

"Shit," he murmurs and I find myself slouching at a sudden wave of exhaustion. Being with the man had somewhat lifted the weight in me, but now that he was having to depart…

"Tonight."

Startled, I gaze at him confusingly, hoping he'd elaborate. Apparently I'd somehow managed to miss his sentence, despite being so remotely close.

He notes my blank stare, marching past me, picking up his paperwork and unfinished sandwich. "I asked if I could come see you tonight," he says with a straight face. I can't be sure whether or not this is a legitimate question, or an attempt at one of his open insults.

But did I want him to come visit?

No, no. He'd asked if he could come and visit. It wasn't an invitation for me to decide how I felt about his well-being. It'd be fine to see him once again. Beside, this was Riza's, and Riza trusted him.

Reluctantly I nod.

He fails to cover up the smile in his eyes.

"Great," he says calmly, adjusting his things more comfortably in his arms. "Be sure to snack on something if you can and get some rest." He gestures to his temple with the sandwich hand. "We want that fever down if you're wanting to recover sooner."

Unconsciously, I touch where he's referring to, blushing at his approving nod.

I suddenly take in his hidden message.

He's hinting to me about leaving. Of course. He's hoping I'll recover soon in order to prepare for my departure and relieve everyone of my burden. His offer to visit tonight was simply a way for him to appear friendly in the attempt at helping me get to a more stable state.

How could I have been so selfish?

"Good?" he asks, stepping over to the trash can. I nod numbly, curious as to what this arousing pain was. "Great. See you then."

He drops the meal.

No one needed to worry. The Hughes, Riza, and the Colonel. They'd be soon deprived of their horrid beast of a guest. They'd done so much for me, so much that I'd forever wish to repay in the fullest, but I don't think I ever would. I wouldn't want to involve myself anymore than I had these past few days. Playing games, discovering new places, meeting new people, I was more than ready for the road again. Broken wings, dysfunctional alchemy, a stiff limb, all were nothing to me. The mental pain only showed them up as simple restraints. Nothing serious. There was no room for me here, and I was determined to leave them to their short lives. Meanwhile, I'd return to my hellishly long one.

A weight pushes into my palm. I glance up to find the Colonel looking bewilderingly into my eyes, inches away. He forms a question and I note the sandwich I'd snatched.

"You should try finishing it along the way," I find myself saying, watching as his fingers hesitantly wrap around it. At the feel of skin brushing against skin, I shiver, and nearly leap away. The urge is strong, but I manage to minimize it to a simple tug backwards, mindful of his feelings. I'd hate to make him believe I was truly loathing towards him, because apparently, I wasn't.

He's still standing there, looking at me, making me feel subconscious. With the sensation of being by a furnace, softly add, "You know, to get yourself prepared for your death match with the Lieutenant." Hopefully the suggested dismissive tone would push him off, and thankfully it did.

"Shit," he says again, taking off. Just before the door shuts and I've reached my spot on the couch, he looks back at my completely lost state. "Take care."

Once he leaves, I smile sadly to myself, going through my list of things I'd be taking on tonight's departing trip.

_You too, Colonel_.


	21. Loving What Hurts

_**I'm alive!:D So yeah... I hope this will appease to you guys, but HEY HOWS IT GOING?:) Ahhh I missed doing this! Okay, do let me know if you like and thanks again everyone! **_

* * *

The sky is an ominous grey when I first lay my fingers on the cold door, nothing in hand, for what could I possibly bring? My belongings had been taken and hidden away. They had been promised when my health improved, but there was no way for me to linger around to see if Riza had been true to her word. As much as I wanted to.

The Colonel's voice, despite it having been quite some time since he'd left, leaves behind a sort of loneliness. With a slight turn and adjustment of the head, I catch a whiff of what I'd failed to distinguish before. A faint scent. Perhaps the peculiar smell of the man himself. It smells strangely like the uniform sewed by my mother's hands. Hours of manual labor, day in and day out, poured with her love and warmth. The times before she'd changed drastically for the worst. The times before Papa and I had been left to fend for ourselves in the cursed nights of wondering "why?"

The thoughts of her cause a sour churning to dwell within my stomach and I focus back on the doorknob in hand. It feels uncomfortable.

The greyness of the dreary outdoors flood into the window and fold around my spine, crawling. It reminds me of that certain moment. I do not wish to remember it at all.

_"And just what are we doing here?"_

_A playful grin._

_"Am I not entitled to bringing my beloved to a beautiful place for a picnic in celebration?"_

_A reflective scoff. Secretive enjoyment._

_"Of course not."_

I do not want to remember any of it.

With a faint nod and gentle shutting of the eyes, I reconsider what it is I'm about to do. My mind reels around the things I'd be leaving behind. Little fragments of what gave me the structures of living. Pieces that kept me going despite everything.

Perhaps I didn't have to do this. Perhaps a very small part of me can believe that it doesn't have to be this way. That I'm not truly condemned to an eternity of wandering alone, purposeless, and drowning in my own agony of what had been dealt. I was meant to come to this place and learn to forgive and forget. Allow the hearts of others, the kindness of Maes, Gracia, Riza, to join with my own and change this horrid self-interpretation of what I am, what I was.

Maybe just maybe, Ritzu could be telling me something. By leading me to this place. This wonderful, wonderful place. Could I start anew?

_The grass smelled of roses. He reached over to brush a lone strand of hair._

_"I love you," he whispered so quietly._

Furiously, I shake myself awake, twisting the way out open in such a forceful manner that my grip slips and I stumble back a few steps, panting at the rush of adrenaline. The pain feels so terribly real that I find I have begun to tremble and must crouch down to my knees, inhaling, and exhaling.

There is no possible way for me to remain here with a sane state of mind. I have to leave. Belongings or not. Should I leave behind a note? No. Goodbyes weren't a necessity of mine. I couldn't risk any moments of opportunity. I couldn't bring myself to risk another conflicting stage. I had to leave.

Once I've caught my breath, I straighten up and solemnly take a step up and out the doorway. A flash of the times I'd been tugged out and swept away by the Hughes almost tosses me back into the sanctuary I'd been so tempted to call home. I cannot allow for this to be the case however, and so I hurry on out, slamming the door in the process. Never would I have expected such a simple task to be so difficult, but the lock had been placed and thus what I had started could only be finished.

Swallowing, I hug my arms to my chest. The room pulsates a bizarre color and I recall the recently discovered sickness. There was a possibility I still held a fever. If I was to continue, I'd better be mindful of my health. It'd be a shame were I to enact my escape only to be found at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. I'd been a burden enough as it was. And not only did I have to keep Riza's arrival in mind, but apparently Roy's.

_"What is it?"_

_He tilted his head innocently._

_"What do you mean?"_

_With a roll of my eyes, I played with the tips of the green field, processing the unsettling glint I'd seen in his eyes._

_"Why are you so nervous?" I asked._

_He twiddled with something in the corner of my vision._

_A sense of wary excitement filled me._

Just why in the world...?

I click my tongue annoyingly, regaining just enough composure to press onward down the hallway. Of course I'd still be concerning myself with these preposterous thoughts. It had already been decided that his willingness to revisit was an act of compassion. Typical formality of a gentleman. Nothing personal. Riza could have put him up to it, suggesting he provide a more comforting atmosphere. She did seem the type. She probably found it to be in her best interests to return the "favor".

How painfully kind of her. To think I'd be hoping she and the others helped me because of a vague attachment. Maybe taking me along not simply to restore me to health, but quietly looking forward to welcoming me as a new addition to their- just what did they call it? A group who shared moments together, one that had their own place to retreat and speak to one another in blissful comfort. Something I'd love nothing more than to be apart of. Belong.

Such a thought seems ridiculous as I make my way down the stairs, avoiding the confinement of the dreadful elevator. The walls are eerily dim in the melancholy of the ending day. The carpeted floor conjuring the illusion of an endless sea. How I crave for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Maybe then, this deafening silence will finally come to an end, and I'll be able to move on from these memories in peace. These wonderful, hurt-filled memories.

_"Fujiin. As you know, the age of eighteen marks the beginnings of your adulthood."_

_He stopped speaking at my attempts to peer around his hidden grip. With the roll of my eyes, I feigned an unappreciative scowl, plotting ways of figuring out the cause of his nervousness._

_"Yes...? In a way I suppose that is the case." I cocked my head curiously, building a wall of alertness, flickering my state back to his hands that were twitching. "What's with the formality? Have you reverted back to your princely ways?"_

Unfortunately my morbid request doesn't pull through and I must continue my trek down into the lobby where strangers walk about occasionally observing the mysterious girl who seems to lack purpose, stalking amongst those who know what to do with themselves as opposed to my cluelessness and lost sense of direction. Which way is right? Up? South? At the moment, everything appears to be the wrong way. Nothing retains its simplicity. Everything is at a different place. I can hardly even remember seeing those buildings outside the glass doors. The pleasant echoes of Gracia and Maes' laughs acts as a distant dream.

I suddenly desire my blade for comfort purposes. These borrowed clothes are extremely itchy. Frequently I blink and dab at my eyes to find drops of liquid fighting to escape. Peculiar.

I shrug away the confusion and fascination with the salty droplets and approach past the voices, towards the gloomy scenery. The people hardly bother to muster a single hello and so I proceed silently, pleading for the muted crowds to separate into easily distinguishable paths to freedom just beyond the murky glass.

_"I love you."_

_"You've said that already," I pointed out in a nervous chuckle._

_"I know." He trailed off, reaching out to lightly trace my knuckles, lifting it gently to his lips. "I find it important to remind you just how precious you are to me."_

Fingertips kiss the exit. Reflection gazes back. She looks so terribly exhausted. Looks so terribly dead. Sad. Lonely. Had I always worn this face? Was this what I'd succumbed to?

I exhale a blast of warm air before pushing through. Looking back, the moist area slowly recedes, leaving behind a bothersome twinge of guilt. Perhaps I should have left a note. A final piece of my existence. A sort of memento.

Someone bumps into me and clears away the idea. There was no time to go back now. I'd already made my mind. No reason to depart in a dramatic fashion.

I'm tempted to regard the man who brought me back to my senses with gratitude, but with a single scan I note that he has already left. No apology. Just another rude civilian. City folk were becoming significantly bitter, aside from the usual crew. This could be a good thought to keep in preparation of my journey of solitude.

What a dreadfully depressing way of being optimistic.

_"Do you love me?"_

_I readied for the usual joking reply but freezed at the startling solemnity shrouding his expression. All seriousness clouded his oceanic glaze. His lips parted in anticipation. I licked my own anxiously._

It's raining. A light, soothing sprinkle. It's perfect for the moment. Matches the mood.

My skin goes cold. As vehicles flash by, puddles of wintry droplets launch into my dampening hair, trickling into my vision. Everything blurs. Shadows merge. A single drop slips down my cheek and grazes the corner of my mouth. It tastes of salt.

_"You don't always have to carry that thing around, you know."_

_I laughed, holding the sword closer to my chest, twiddling with the hilt. His unusual fidgetiness hadn't escaped my worriedment. There was something frighteningly exciting about his secret and I intended to know what it was._

_"Of course I do," I answered matter of factly. He rewarded me with a humorous grin. "A gift's a gift. No way would I ever risk leaving such a beautifully crafted object lying around for some petty thief to snab." With this, I added a teasing wink and we chuckled at the memory of our first meeting_.

I quickly dab at my eyes, bringing myself up to a brisk pace. Already I could feel the effect of those memories doing their worst, opening horrid fears and terrifying assumptions. History replays like a film in my mind and I must hurry, hurry to the edge of the city. Must reach the ends of the noise. I have to get far from these festering insecurities, these urgent questions.

How could I leave his gift behind?

Why did Papa do this to me?

Did I truly still have 'truth'?

Answers. I crave so many answers. Especially for the last.

There was no way for me to be truly certain whether or not everything that had happened to me the past few days were real occurances. No way to tell if I'd really driven my friend to suicide or ran into the Colonel. For all I knew, the girl of white was only a hallucination and Riza was a distorted memory. Did she even exist? Did Gracia or Maes or Roy exist?

Did I exist?

_"You don't have to keep fighting."_

_He withdrew the object from his shadow, making sure to maintain its mystery by covering it with his trembling hands. I stared at it suspiciously. Measured its size. Guessed what it could be._

_"I know."_

_He shook his head in patience, pulling his grip back. I started to think I was being tested. A test that I was failing miserably._

_"No. You don't."_

Frustrated, I start to jog. I ignore the looks, the calls, and continue to dash down the lanes routed in my restless mind. I have no idea where I am going. All I know is I'm moving. I'm getting somewhere. I'm running away. Again.

Even with a new title, I'm only ever good at this. Flee from my troubles and regrets. Tuck tail and run.

I'm always afraid.

_"Let me be the one to protect you," he said quietly. His words were so clear. Almost deafening._

_I laughed weakly. My heart rushed with a throbbing dread and paralyzing excitement._

_"I don't need-"_

_"Not just for the sake of you."_

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops continue to hit the pavement in a somber rhythm. Adding to it are the heavy thuds of my shoes, splashing, disrupting nature's predetermined design. I take a sharp right into an alley, blind. The people have all disappeared and it is only me, gasping for whatever is meant to come.

Brick walls guide me in the dimness of the lengthy path. The smell of wet cement clogs my nose and I have the urge to sneeze frequently, but I refrain from doing so. A part of me is afraid any sound will give way to my whereabouts. I do not want them to find me. But at the same time, I do. It such an aggravating process. Conflicting sides of me, myself, and I. If a mirror had been anywhere near me right now, I would have undoubtedly shattered it in pure rage.

_"What do you mean by that?" I asked._

_He frowned for the right choice of words._

_"I'm sure you already know."_

It was foolish of me to listen to him. It was idiotic of me to go along with his childish game. Why did I bother pretending at the time that horrible things happened to everyone except us? How stupid I was to think that a lifetime of happiness was going to be guaranteed to me. Absurd. Absurd and selfish.

It starts to rain harder. My feet have already been exposed to the stickiness of wet socks. It's uncomfortable and I grit my teeth in repulsion. When I'm just about ready to give in to the exhaustion eating away at my body, I take another direction change. This time to the left.

It is then when I realize just where I intended to go.

_I did know. I had known for a while then. I'd figured it out ever since I'd returned from the field, away from the war that had still been raging on. Riza was still firing rounds at the innocent under the command of someone behind a desk. Roy was surely going around setting fire to people, also under the heavy influence of Amestris's dictator of a man._

_I knew, and it was the knowing that frightened me._

_"Ritzu-" I choked, but couldn't bring myself to go on. I really didn't need to._

Each and every twist and turn is burned into my memory. Engraved. It will forever remain a part of my existence, this map of mine. Despite having been there only once, I remember every nook and cranny. Every bump and step. I touch each spot on the walls, approving of their repetitive indentions and winding patterns. Even without the Hughes here, I can find my way to where I felt safe. Where I felt adored. And maybe in the future, loved.

Loved.

I fall forward. Ground meets skin and I find I've painted the world in lovely red. The stinging is delayed and when it comes, it's demanding to be acknowledged. With a hiss, I cradle back against the soaked bricks, observing the opened gash. I hadn't even noticed the broken bottles. Barely registered the recent liquids of brown and yellow. Bits of wasted alcohol. All I've truly noted were the bits of scarlet belonging to me.

_"Fujiin, my dearest goddess. Manipulator of the winds. Fearless knight to my brother. Stubborn thief of the Aerugo streets. Keeper of my heart."_

The sore, tenderness of the wounds feel ablaze. I'm back in the forest, waiting for Roy to touch that horrid color to my dead weight of an arm. I'm wishing for death. Naomi speaks those words for me.

"-dead by tomorrow anyways."

No. Wait. It's a man's voice. In the present. Right in front of me.

"Cutie isn't she?"

"Yeah, when you take away her screwed up legs and face. She's a beauty."

"Ral, don't you think tripping her was a bit harsh?"

"I think it suits her."

Five. Five men. Surrounding me, who was bloody, stuck in a sea of glass shards, panting from not only lack of stamina, but a rising fever and daggered remembrances.

_He expected me to entrust myself entirely to him? To rely on his attempts to perserve my life when he could barely manage his own?_

_I smiled at the thought._

_It actually didn't sound too bad of a deal._

Instinctively I reach for my weapon. The intruders flinch.

Nothing is there. I have no way of defending myself.

I can't protect myself.

I'm outnumbered and weak.

_"Will you allow me to forever stand at your side, to shield you from harms way, to love you and call you my own? To exchange vows and promises, to fight amongst each other, to always remember?"_

The boys realize my mistake, relaxing their stances to approach with malicious sneers. I find myself shrinking away in- what?- fright?

No, me afraid of thugs? Thieves? Murderers? Never. I've never been so weak as to tremble before such people.

Except...

_"Fujiin."_

_He revealed a lone box. His finger poised to lift the lid._

_My heart leapt into my throat._

_My eyes blurred._

_Ears muffled._

_Hands numbed._

_So terrified._

_So thrilled_.

"I think she could use a little more color."

A cackle. Chorus of laughter. One of them dares to reach for my hair and I act on impulse.

The broken bottle is tightly in my grasp. I squeeze and thrust blindly. A piercing scream shocks me into a frozen state, and I watch the blood pooling from his spastic hand, blinking incredulously and trying to remember when I had done it. Everything seems to fall into slow motion after that.

_The question formed on his lips. I leaned forward, eager, nervous._

_"Will you-" he started, and I felt myself melt. My limbs went limp. My mouth terribly, terribly dry._

_I couldn't stop smiling. I didn't know why. But it felt so right. So proper for the moment. Absolutely perfect._

Nails dig into my throat and blade-like shoes morph into my stomach. Coughing red. Smelling red. All is the beautiful shade of those roses before they'd withered away.

I think I'm fighting back, but it's hard to know for sure. Everyone seems to be the same person. Three arms are one giant hand. Faces are suddenly statues. My legs are jelly and I can't see who or what I'm scratching, clawing, cutting into.

I've forgotten who I am.

_"Will you marry me?"_

Misaki? Fujiin? Who?

The rain falls harder and thunder crashes in the distance. Something wet swipes against my neck and I drive a fist into nose, rewarded by a 'crack' almost as loud as the rising thunderstorm.

Tongue. I'd been licked. Violated. Touched. By such dirty, dirty hands.

_My hands moved to their own accord. They held to his face lovingly. Fingers traced his cheeks, nose, chin. He sighed in bliss, still waiting, still holding that life changing promise._

"Feisty bitch aren't ya? I like it."

"How about we get you into something more comfortable?"

"It's the stubborn ones I love."

"Put on a show!"

Only Ritzu could touch me. Only him. No one else. No one.

_"Yes."_

No one.

_He enveloped me into his arms. Our mouths connected and we were laughing. The ring fit perfectly. It slid on with ease and felt so warm. Alive by the pulse of my racing heart. Our synchronized beats._

Why? Why has life been so cruel? Why have I been condemned to eternal damnation for something I never meant to do? How is that fair? Why?

_"I love you."_

_It was the first time I'd ever said it._

_The first time I'd admitted it. Aloud._

I don't know when I've stopped trying.

_"I love you so much."_

I'm swarmed by bodies. I've lost my strength.

_"I love you."_

What's worse is the knowledge of immortality. My neverending suffering.

This could go on forever.

And I'd never be free.

_"I love you."_

I'd never be free.


	22. Cruel Illusion

**_Oh my gosh. It is literally one am over here and I have band practice later at 8:30 am, but this was totally worth it._**

**_This is perhaps one of my favorite chapters that I've worked on, even though it doesn't have a whole lot of Mustang (sorry! But just you wait! This is my OC development! I want you guys to love her!) it's very depressing and such, but it explains a lot about Misaki and the way she behaves :) _**

**_It may be a bit confusing to read as I've connected both the past and present using the space dividers! Remember, italics are the past and straight text is the present ^.^ at the end I made it a bit less straining on the eyes and easier to distinguish by bold ing the present descriptions! _**

**_Thank you so much for reading! We've almost hit the 4,000 views! _**

**_Love you guys3_**

* * *

_"Will you marry me?"_

_Four words._

_"Yes."_

_One syllable._

_"I love you."_

_A lifetime of change._

_We had no idea what we were doing. Had no clue what we were getting ourselves into. I barely held the mindset to register what position I'd agreed to. He dove right into the moment, uncaring of later consequences we may have had to face. All we were completely certain of, one hundred percent, were the comforts of each other's arms. The security of the other's company. At that moment, we believed we were untouchable. We'd live to be a thousand, forever young, always together. Nothing in the universe could ever pry us apart._

_Of course any infatuated couple would believe this to be the truth. Ritzu and I did._

_"Sorry my gift is such a lousy one this year."_

_I laughed, breathless. He could do that to me. A simple peck and I'm left gasping for the strength that'd been drained. It both aggravated and amazed me. There was simply no explaining it._

_"First a sword and now your 'heart'," I paused at his lips resting at my throat, planting sweet spots of sizzling electricity. "You're losing your touch." Those last few words I managed to choke out in ridiculous stutters._

_I felt him smile._

_"If you want, I have more than just my heart to offer."_

_I slowly processed the meaning of his words, flushing to a brilliant shade of pink. At his explosion of laughter I smacked his shoulder, failing to hide my flustered reaction. He only laughed harder, even when I noticed my firmly placed grimace and a twinge of something...different. It hung uncomfortably like a flaming furnace. Somewhere below my stomach. Right at me-_

_I melted into an unhealthy shade of purple._

_I had to be honest. That hadn't been the first time I experienced such a...discomfort. It was, however, the first time he spoke of it so bluntly. Even if it was only a joke. But having just been proposed to and still trying to recover from our miniature celebration of closeness, there was a flurry of emotions bustling around up and downstairs. Mainly confusion, embarrassment, and lust. Or perhaps love? I really couldn't decide for the life of me. I was hoping on love at the time._

_I really did love him. So terribly, terribly much._

_He regarded my stoic expression with wide eyes, unblinking. An aching swelled up within my gut and climbed up to my chest. With those intensely blue eyes peering into mine, I couldn't seem to function in any way. My muscles tightened and at the same time, loosened to useless masses. The ground had never felt so wobbly._

_I'd never gone through it before. The "event". The "connection". Whatever it was. Never even gave a single thought to it, ever. After all, I was a father's daughter with the lack of a mother. Especially during my most crucial times. My most confusing._

_So sitting there, practically in his lap, saying nothing while watching each other almost hungrily, I hadn't the faintest idea what to do. Whether to break off the tension with a random laugh or lame attempt at subject change, my brain screamed for me to escape. Meanwhile, other areas...were a bit more demanding in an entirely different notion._

_It was almost a shameful moment for me._

_Almost._

_He cleared his throat, suddenly shy, and I snapped away from my trance. Awkwardly we smiled at one another. He held my hand, then heavy with the weight of diamond, and I stared silently at the beautiful ring. It was ironic how before I'd settled my eyes on the past diamonds with an overwhelming hatred. Seeing Papa going around with that lie, a promise for him and Mom to be together, it sickened me. I'd gone on keeping true to my deductions of the romantic sides of the world were merely illusions, and stupid rings that held the message of love were simply rings. Yet now, glinting ever so slightly in the cloudy daylight of the calming outdoors, I could see that everything had changed. I couldn't tell if it was for the better or the worse, but frankly, I couldn't have cared any less. Like a love sick pup, I was blinded, led only by the one who had leashed me._

_"Well," Ritzu suddenly started, pulling me towards him into a suffocatingly pleasant embrace. He leaned his head back against the bare tree trunk, gently resting mine against his shoulder. "I suppose we should alert the others at some point, yes?"_

_I secretly smiled at the use of "we". How would I ever get to used to it, I had wondered. It was scary how different everything changed in the span of a single Q&A._

_"Maybe," I answered softly._

_"Maybe," he echoed and we went off into a peaceful silence._

_That was the other of the many things I loved about him. The conversational silences. There could be crickets in the air or children screaming in the background, and we could easily sit and tune out our surroundings. We didn't have to speak aloud to each other. Everything was said for itself during those quiet moments. We could be content being just that way._

_It always drove Naomi insane._

_Would you at least talk about boring stuff or something? Your likes and dislikes? What you did today? You two are being incredibly antisocial and it's disturbing, she would say at the brink of tearing her bangs out in frustration and discomfort. Ritzu and I would only roll our eyes at her panicked, confused state and share looks with hidden messages. That would then drive her to huff angrily and eventually leave us to our 'weirdness'._

_It was just how it worked for us. We could either have the words or the pauses, and a point would get across. At that moment, we were both thinking about our futures. We wondered what the next day would bring, and the next, and the one after that, and so forth. Trivial things like "husband" and "wife" floated through our minds. Basically anything concerning what we made happen circled between the two of us. Even the more explicit details._

_"Claudio?" I asked out of the blue. With a nod, Ritzu made a short, confirming reply. He'd asked for his brother's blessing and was granted the request. In a way, I'd already known he'd be in full support of it. It was wonderful to hear it anyways._

_"Your father too."_

_For a moment, my heart shattered at the mentioning of my dearest Papa. It'd been a while since I'd exchanged warm, friendly words with him as he'd finally reached his breaking point since Mom left. Outraged by his insistence to tune out the entire universe, including his only daughter, I deemed him unfit to be useful at anything. Ever since I'd arrived at the palace gates, standing defiantly before my stack of beaten soldiers, I'd hardly acknowledged the man. To me, he was already dead. A weak sack of skin and bones that I refused to deteriorate to. Blood lines were of no importance to me anymore._

_However, the fact that Ritzu had not only visited him, but actually got a syllable from that walking corpse put me into a slight tremble of disbelief. How could my own father, who I'd known all my life, share his voice with Ritzu and not someone of his own flesh and blood? As much as I loved Ritzu, it still hurt to find out all those years of fighting, learning, and laughing beside my father weren't quite as meaningful to him as they were to me. Did he even remember the responsibility that was past due? Taking care of his little girl? Even on my own birthday he'd kept to himself. No card. No hello. Only permission to be passed on to another family. Pushed away like some sort of unwanted property._

_"Oh," I managed to say, not even attempting to hide my disappointment. "That's good."_

_Ritzu went soft, playing with strand of my hair. He exhaled a gust of warm air upon my head, burying his face against my heated cheek._

_"He loves you. That never changed," he whispered comfortingly as I tilted my head back to smile at him sadly._

_"It's easier to believe he doesn't."_

_In reply, he said nothing. Only continued to fiddle with my tangled locks._

_That day, I'd turned eighteen. I was taken by surprise into the rich green fields of Aerugo by my dearest companion in the middle of my training. Claudio had wished me a wonderful day, congratulating with a new sheath for my weapon and his blessing to be his future sister in law. My men, sweet as can be, all crowded me with kind words and humorous teases. Naomi had planted a friendly peck on the cheek, supplying me with beautiful dresses and not so clean remarks on relationship advice. People I didn't even know came up to me as I walked through the marketstreets, pulling me into respectful curtsies and the occasional hug. Overall it had been a truly remarkable day of growing up. It was the best gift. The attention. The love. But none of it could quite compare to that very moment where those three words finally spilled from my mouth. None could compare to that single life changing experience, his hopeful question. I never would have guessed someone of my character, so frequently joked as a man in a woman's body, would face this day of intimacy. If I had known many years in advance, I probably would have spent every second trying to get myself out of it. But now, it was too late for such an attempt. And it wasn't as if I wanted to. I'd already been lost to the spell. It was too late for me. Too late for us._

_Such a time wouldn't last long. It was bound to come at a decline at some point._

_I just never would have imagined how quickly._

_"You know that I love you," Ritzu reassured. In response, I gazed at him lovingly._

_"Who wouldn't?" I teased, reaching up to flick his nose._

_That sparked a war of wrestling, and so all things troubling were forgotten. Papa was a dull throb. Mom was almost nonexistent. All that remained was me and my fiancé, driven by the law of being inseparable._

_Til death did we part._

* * *

Til death did we part.

I hated that statement.

Until death do we part.

To me, it was its own promise. A guarantee of a division. The hinting of a breaking bond between even the sturdiest of the beloved.

Until death, we part.

And just as it was written, depart we did as death was inevitable and cruel with its mighty swing on the strings of my heart.

Of course Ritzu should be the one to go. He'd been the least deserving of such a fate so it was only ensured. The soon execution of his well-being had been planned, plotted, and performed. As for me? I'd never reach a point of searching for him. I'd never be given the chance to discover whether another life existed after this one. Ritzu was gone not only from the world, but my grasp. His entire being had been stripped away. Unobtainable.

I didn't even get to say goodbye.

* * *

_There was a startling explosion. A following stench. Gunpowder._

_Ritzu and I perked up, listening in alarm._

_"Hear that?" I asked ever so quietly. He nodded. A grave look plastered his face._

_"Hunters?" I suggested. He shook his head slowly, rolling away from me to a standing position._

_"This far from the town? I doubt it."_

_Tensely, I swallowed. Indeed we were quite a distance away from our homeland. To hear harmless civilians performing their hobbies several miles away from others, it was at a low chance. Very unlikely._

_Based on Ritzu's serious expression, it couldn't have been anyone considerably friendly._

_"Let's go," he said grimly, frantically gathering the blanketed goods he'd snatched from the palace into a single clump. I made for some of the items myself, ready to help quicken the process when my troublesome curiosity got the best of me._

_"What if someone's in trouble?" I wondered aloud. The idea wasn't completely unlikely. Perhaps there really was a dispute getting out of hand between a lone traveler and some random thug. I'd been convinced that was the case. Someone was dealing with a dilemma and Ritzu and I were the only ones close enough to interfere. How was I to leave with the possibility festering in my head?_

_I dropped our belongings, drawing out my blade. Whether an innocent was involved or not, I couldn't just stand by._

_But before I could take a step in the direction of the commotion, a pair of strong hands looped around my waist, extending past my wrists to the handle I clenched tightly in anticipation._

_"No," he breathed as a warning. I shivered, even under these situations, under the intensity of his contact. "My biggest priority right now, is you. Let's get you back home and I'll send some of my guards down."_

_Carefully, I pried away from his grip, shaking my head disapprovingly._

_"That'll take too long. We're here so I might as well go check," I argued, glancing back towards the dying echo of the gunshot. "With my alchemy I can mend up any wounds." As I attempted another step, Ritzu once again snatched at my body, uncomfortable by the idea._

_"We don't know who it is," he countered._

_"Exactly, we don't," I agreed, trying to pull away from his unrelenting grip. "So it's only logical if we make sure we're not leaving some kid to his or her death."_

_Ritzu frowned. His eyes scanned the open field, empty, deprived of life besides the two of us. Then he glanced over to the forest area where the sound was made. He bit his lip anxiously._

_"Come on," I pushed further, messing with the ring on my finger for comfort. "Just let me go check it out, at least. I'll be back in no time."_

_He rolled his eyes, regaining some of his liveliness. With a light shove, I was sitting on the ground, staring up at him casting an exasperated, scolding scowl._

_"You're stubborn as always," he teased, ruffling my hair. Pouting, I waved away his hand, about to protest. He quickly silenced me with a swoop-in kiss, holding my shoulders in place so I wouldn't melt on the spot. When he pulled away, he was smiling, tracing the tired lines below my eyes. "I'll be back. If anything goes wrong, run."_

_"Hey-!"_

_But even as that exclamation poured out in a tremendous growl, he had already leapt off into the shaded trees, light and quick on his feet. I watched him debating whether or not to pursue after him until he eventually disappeared into the shadows, becoming a part of the mysterious terrors lurking beyond my comprehension._

_Three more rounds of gunfire rang out._

* * *

Gunfire. Ishval. Flames.

Everything under the control of the Fuhrer.

King Bradley.

Tyrant. Dictator. Whichever. He was cruel.

A horrid monster.

Bloodthirsty, power driven demon.

He wouldn't ever be satisfied with what he already had. There was always room for more.

The selfish bastard.

As Ishval wasn't enough, he had his sights on more territory. More land to lay claim to. Expand and grow into an unbeatable nation.

Aerugo.

Beautiful land. Wonderful people.

Powerful weapons.

He had it pinned in bright red on that map of his. Targeted. My home.

His men prepared to attacked.

He seeked to conquer.

We were in the way.

* * *

_I was in the way._

_I never felt so useless in my life. Or no, that wasn't right. Back in Ishval, I'd let the lives of many slip through my fingers. I didn't want this to be a repeat. Never again._

_But Ritzu had gone instead of me. Almost as if he felt the need to shield me from what laid ahead. Protect me. Just as he said he wanted to do._

_I was so used to being the one doing the protecting. How could I just sit idly by and let him carry on the work? Alone?_

_Five more shots shook the sky._

_I couldn't. That's how._

_With a silent apology, I stumbled up to my feet, weapon in hand._

_I ran._

* * *

I run.

I run to the best of my abilities. Maneuvering through buildings and keeping to the shadows.

My feet are raw and red. The soles of my shoes ripped apart, stabbed by multiple shards sinking into my flesh. It's unbearably painful, but I don't dare to stop sprinting.

My eyes play tricks and I mistake walls for mouths, windows for ghouls, and lone pieces of trash as dead bugs. A couple appear to be writhing around. My stomach loses itself in the moment.

I have to stop. When I've finished, I start taking off yet again. The shoes push deeper. A forgotten bandage slowly begins to peel away into the wet ground. I don't look back.

Somewhere in my tracks, a group of boys are playing chase with the intent to kill and other worse things. At this rate I'm going, they'll undoubtedly catch up to me. I've lost all energy. My body is in ruins.

It's terrible of me, but I have to find it. I have to rest within its comforting atmosphere, listen to laughter of the past. Even if it meant leading the corrupted into its security. Were that to happen, I would unleash a final terror upon those ruffians. I'd give it my all, small as it may be, and protect that beautiful place. Protect it and keep it for my own to sleep in. Take a long, long nap. Hopefully never wake up.

It's my first plan in years.

* * *

_The plan? For the first time I had none._

_Going off my instincts, I leapt into the trees, out of sight, mindful of the loose branches and loudest leafs. Though not perfect, my stealthiness was at an all time high._

_My feet landed in quick precision upon the dry bark, never missing it's targeted spot. The sounds of whistling winds covered the slightest of noise I would accidentally create from time to time. It carried the scents of strangers to my active nose, metallic._

_Unknowingly, I bared my teeth at the recognition of uniform. The strong smells of freshly ironed, cleaned uniforms._

_I knew right away those didn't belong to us. It was wrong. Too different. There was no way my, Ritzu's, or Claudio's men were away from their posts. These people were real intruders. Not a single one of them was of Aerugonian blood._

_I went straight for the worst and guessed they were Amestris military._

_My jaw clenched._

* * *

My jaw clenched as the second wave of nausea hit, mercilessly. With a muffled scream I hit the ground, knees first, and clawed at the concrete. My tongue exploded in flavors of metal and salt, dripping down to my chin as I prepared to hack out my intestines.

It felt like pin needles had multiplied in my stomach, expanding and contracting with everything in a constant motion. Organs were tearing open. Acid was eating through tissue.

I was dying with the consequence of avoiding death.

But I had to go on. I had to get to where I wanted to be. Away from the torturous cruelty.

Away. Get far away.

* * *

_I had to get away._

_The soldiers, I knew what they were capable of. The terrors they could and would unleash on our people. I had to go warn them._

_But Ritzu was still out there. I couldn't leave him. Not to defend against these savages._

_I continued forward._

_A wild rustling captured my attention from the side and I froze in my tracks._

_A pair of eyes peered deeply into mine._

_Ocean._

_They widened. A finger pointed frantically at something behind me. My heart pounded._

_Slowly I turned._

* * *

I slowly turn.

Stand up.

Limp.

It's such an agonizingly slow pace, but it'll have to do. Anything is better than nothing. As long as I reached it before I lost consciousness.

One step. Two.

I stumble and fall.

Vomit.

Get back up.

Try again.

Repeat.

It goes on for an eternity. The hurt, stumbling, aching. Everything falls into a rhythmic motion. I fear I'll forget what I've come here for. I'm afraid I'll forget. I'm afraid.

But then I find the decayed wall, the looming darkness, and I cry out in relief. I want to curl up inside the greenery, below the open roof, drown in the pouring rain. Listen to the excited squeals of Gracia or the humorous remarks of Naomi and-

I collapse before the entrance. Everything hits me at once. Everything.

* * *

_"Fujiin!"_

_Immediately hands flung out and I knocked away the gun before it blasted a hole into my temple. In a whirl I checked where I'd seen Ritzu, only to find the area emptied of his presence._

_Explosions of gunfire ignited the forest. In a fearful impulse, I fled away to the next branch, missing it in the midst of my terror._

_Where was Ritzu?_

_As I fell, I compelled bursts of wind to cushion the impact. At a steady glide, I found a place to land, just behind the intense blue of an armed soldier._

_I lashed out with sword without hesitation. He crumbled without a sound. Quick and painless._

_As I spun to continue my search for Ritzu, two bullets whizzed by my dumbstruck face. Quickly I located the sources, stripping away two more lives in merciful execution._

_Where was Ritzu?_

_From above, leafs rustled and I rolled away in the nick of time to avoid being crushed. The man snapped his ankle from the underestimated weight capacity of his hiding spot, and so I went ahead and put him out of his misery without flinching._

_Ritzu was nowhere to be found._

_It would have been stupid to call out while in the center of a raid, so I went on through the area, scouring for him. During the process, I encountered several more men, downing them with surprising ease. It was unsettling how almost willingly they seemed to go. If these were really soldiers of the Ishval status, then shouldn't their combative skills be a bit more impressive? I had the sneaking feeling of missing something important. Something critical. It felt like I was ensnared in some devilish trap._

_"M'Lady."_

_Startled, I drew my blade to the speaker's throat, gently pressing the tip against his soft skin. A thin line of blood trickled down along the sharpened edge, splitting at the handle and dripping to the brightly green grass, staining it. I prepared to finish the job in a quick, fluid motion when the soldier flashed a fearful look, waving his arms frantically in surrender. It had completely slipped past me just what I'd been called. Even so, to my upmost shock, I found myself slowly retracting to hear what it was he wanted to say._

_"Try anything and I won't be quite as considerate," I warned._

_The man gasped. Hyperventilating. I patiently waited for him to come into a more suitable condition to speak. When he did, it was nothing I would have ever expected an enemy to say. In fact, it was nothing I would have ever believed possible for the enemy to say._

_"M'Lady... I'm sorry... I've failed...you..."_

_It made no sense. This Amestris soldier noting me with such nobility. Using the voice of one of my most trusted men. Apologizing for what? Why? Why would the enemy-?_

_My eyes widened. In a panicked rush, I reached to tear back the sleeve of his right arm. I recalled my second man, Leo, who had a series of scars lining along his forearm. The same exact pattern, exact place, and exact size as this man's._

_I practically snapped my neck to gawk back at his shame-filled expression. Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes. His mouth opened but no sounds came out as he took in my changing demeanor._

_My chest inflated rapidly. My nostrils flared. Fingers twitched. Ears roared with terrifying sounds._

_If this soldier was in actuality a member of my squad, then was it possible...?_

_I clasped my hand to my mouth, moaning. Leo stared at me, broken, reaching out to comfort me but then thinking better of it._

_"M'Lady..." he whimpered. I forced myself to the nearest body. Squatted down. Shakily removed the jacket and helmet of the man to discover the name "Becka" tattooed across his collarbone. The name of Dane's wife. Now a widow._

_I bit back a building scream and checked on the others. Leo said nothing, hardly moving, letting out a sob from time to time to prove he was still alive._

_Jared. Miles. Gerald. Westly. Nate. "Big Boy John". Sam. Elan._

_"No...no...no..."_

_I couldn't accept it. I couldn't accept what I'd done. There was no way I could believe myself capable of such a terrible thing. Killing my own men. My own, dedicated, loving soldiers who had, just earlier, wished me a happy birthday and joked with me in bursts of laughter and pranks._

_That explained the lack of resistance. The horrible concealed attempts at ambush. They weren't willing to harm me, period. They chose death over the harming of their leader._

_And I killed them._

_Jared and Westly with their yearly pranks and childish plays._

_Gerald and his stories of his kids who sometimes came to the palace to distract everyone from work._

_Miles, the thoughtful, intelligent man who provided me with information, always loyal and precise with his research._

_"Big Boy John" and his ridiculous flirts and joking relations._

_Nate and Elan with their sweet, wonderful contributions. With me on the field. Never wanting to leave my side._

_Sam who refused to leave me on the Ishval field._

_Dead._

_Because of me._

_My fault._

_I killed them._

_"M'Lady."_

_I murdered my palace family. My beloved friends._

_"M'Lady, please."_

_My arms went slack. Fell against the dirt and painted green._

_"M'Lady, it's not your fault."_

_I stared at Leo blankly. The sword slipped from my palm. It felt too heavy._

_"You didn't know."_

_He was right. I didn't know. I had no clue, but what did it matter? I still killed them. I could've checked. Maybe waited for them to attack first and realize they weren't even trying to be aggressive. I could have... Should have..._

_My legs went hard. My eyes sharp and shoulders tense._

_What sick bastard would do this? Who the hell would shove my men, MY men, into these horrendous uniforms just so I could be the one to do the dirty deed of ridding of them? Who would dare to screw with me? Who dared to pick a death wish?_

_I recalled the two fired bullets and landed a punch into the ground._

_Who would dare frame my loyal men?_

_I went ballistic._

_Like a rocket, I shot to my feet, storming around the area, casting entire trees aside like they were nothing, screaming maniacally._

_"SHOW YOURSELF YOU BASTARDS!"_

_It had to have been a more than one man job. Taking down even one of my guys? That alone was a challenge. They had to be up against a numerous amount of people. An army would be just about equivalent to their status. It would have amazed me if any less then ten soldiers fared against one of my men. It was no matter though. I'd be the one to finish each and every one of them, personally._

_"M'Lady, please calm down," Leo said urgently, stepping completely out of his usually calmly self. "You don't know what you're up against."_

_I stomped before him, putting my disastrous search on hold to take in his trembling stature._

_"Who?" I asked without a hint of sympathy. Only rage. "Who did this? Who's responsible?"_

_His body went rigid. A paralyzing terror overcame him and I worried he would stop functioning entirely._

_"Who?" I demanded._

_Eyes darting back and forth, he seemed to be looking out for something, or rather someone. I tried tracing his line of vision, but found no one remotely near where we stood. Impatiently, I leered at my remaining man, awaiting his answer._

_He took a deep breath._

_"It was him," he whispered faintly._

_"Who?" I hissed, itching for a title, a clue to my targets._

_Tears flooded down his face and I felt a single twinge of guilt. I didn't mean to be cruel, but I had to know the information if I was to avenge my brothers. Without anything to work with, what was I to do?_

_I tried a softer approach. My hand patted his shoulder, resting there in reassurance. Under the contact, I felt him relax just slightly._

_"Leo," I addressed gently. "I know you're probably freaking out right now, but I'm relying on you to tell me what you know." At this, he shook just slightly and I stabilized him by placing my other hand on the opposite shoulder, squeezing. "I want to help you, and I want to not let everyone's...sacrifices to be for nothing," I choked. "So please... Tell me to the best of your abilities. Who did this to you?"_

_His teeth chattered even though he wasn't cold and he numbly nodded. I passed an appreciative smile, watching as he opened his mouth._

_"F-"_

_There was a suddenly explosion and I made sure to yank down Leo with me as we sucked for cover. In a flash, I tightened my gloves, swinging them in the direction of my attacker, knowing whoever I'd hit was only going to be enemy. Ritzu was clever enough to avoid such contact. I didn't need to worry about him._

_A reassuring thud echoed and I turned to observe the closeness of the bullet. It had sunk right into the nearest trunk, one of which I'd yet to tear from the ground, leaving a slight trail of smoke._

_I decided speaking out in the open really wasn't the smartest idea and gently patted Leo._

_"Let's head into the trees, away from the broad daylight, yeah?"_

_No response. He really must have been shaken up. Being that close to death, it could do that to you. But I couldn't just wait for him to recover at his own pace._

_"Leo. I know you're scared, but you have to snap out of it."_

_He didn't even stir. I knew I had to apply some more force, so I snaked my arm around his, and pulled with all my might, hoping he'd get the picture and start applying his own strength._

_I ended up falling backwards onto the ground._

_"God dammit, Leo, you have to get u-"_

_I stopped at the sight of his wide, wide stare and tear stained cheeks. Flecks of blood decorated his short, wispy hair. It gathered in one solid circle around a black hole just at his brain, going straight through to the other side._

_I screamed but no sound came out._

_When there was another rustle, that time in front of me, I couldn't move. I could barely think. But when I saw what it was that was hiding behind that thicket, I completely lost all will to live._

_Red, glowing eye. Not eyes, but one single glare._

_It penetrated my defenses, mentally. My mind threatened to shut down entirely. My morbid fears circled in shifts. I watched my men die, again and again and again. I saw myself standing before their corpses, laughing deliriously, bloody tears staining my face. More bodies added to the pile. Papa. Naomi. Claudio._

_Ritzu._

_My legs screamed to move. And somehow I managed to obey. One second I'm sitting before hell itself, and the next I'm sprinting for my life through the trees, uncaring of the branches smacking my limbs or the leafs cutting my skin. I was being chased. That- That thing was running after me, and u knew that once it caught me, I'd be dead._

_It was going to get me. I was going to be ripped to shreds. Die a horrible, painful death. It was only a matter of time._

_I didn't remember when I had picked up my sword. Didn't care to. It granted me at least a smal bit of comfort, and so I held it, ready to swing when the moment came._

* * *

**I have to stop remembering. Have to stop reliving the past. I have to stop.**

_I couldn't stop running. It was like that was all I knew. My purpose in life was to run. Run and survive._

**Thunder screeches, covering my own wails. The rain falls harder. They feel like bullets on my back.**

_It was near. Too close. It could smell me. It breathed on my neck._

**I shakily turn to rest my back against the crumbled ruins of the wall. The entrance is as far as I'll be able to go. There's no way for me to climb over that single step. No way to lie where I wanted to lie. This would have to suffice.**

**The boys would be lucky tonight. They'd have no troubles getting what they wanted. I was done.**

_Its body coiled around my wrist. Constricted. Like a viper. I tightened my grip on the blade._

**A pair of eyes emerged from the frigid air. Dark. In search of something or someone.**

_I plunged the tip blindly behind me._

**The eyes come closer and I identify hands reaching for me.**

_I'd struck something smooth. The blade sunk in with ease._

**I'm lifted up into arms and my head rolls to my carrier's chest. I hear a beating heart. It's soothing.**

_I'd hit it, but was still afraid. I felt the urge to check. I wanted to know for sure if I was really in the clear._

**Tired hiccups rack my body as this stranger and I entered the hole in the wall.**

_Before I caught my look at what it was, a glint captured my attention. My ring. The diamond had turned red, probably by the bits of blood that slipped on through the cracks._

**We step into the center of the Usual Place where it's now come to a dull sprinkle. A mellow mist.**

_I turned my head._

**I am set down, gently.**

_Blinked._

**His arms are still around me, keeping me up.**

_I collapsed into myself. Screamed._

**"You don't have to be alone."**

_Standing before me, I witnessed the red enveloping every inch of his body. Plastering every piece of his beautiful skin in hideous Crimson. Taking all I loved and adored and ruining it with that color._

**"You don't have to live like this."**

_Ocean._

**"You don't have to be brave."**

_Only the ring on his finger remained spotless._


End file.
